ASPS The AntiShinRa Organisation
by JessicaJ
Summary: Vincent turns up at Tifa's door, taking her away from her home with warnings that her life is in danger. Along the way, Tifa tries to learn as much as she can about this mysterious man, and her findings are far from what she expected. [Historic story of mine, forgive terribleness!]
1. Chapter 1 Revised

Anti.ShinRa.Protection.Society

I've decided to edit this, after so long- I did write it when I was 15, so I think the quality pales compared to my more recent work! Disregard this if you've already read it- it's a slow process, and I'm working on combining some chapters together to make the story seem more digestible. 53 chapters does sound daunting, though some are short.

Also, sorry if the story suddenly goes into bold- I've done everything I can think of to stop it, but it doesn't seem to be working!

Thanks, JessicaJ

_A late flight_

When I opened my front door to see him standing there, I can't really tell you what I was feeling: Curious, no doubt about that, but there was something else- maybe a little apprehension, or even fear.

His dark hair was over his eyes, the rain pouring down on him like there was no tomorrow. It had been raining for three days solid now; the river had burst its banks. The streets, including the one my house was situated on, were water logged; The drains couldn't handle the surges of floodwater any longer.

His ruby eyes swept to both sides of the street behind him before his gaze returned to me. He must have read my expression, for he said;"I know the hour is late, but it's very important."

Of course I was going to let him in. Even though I didn't know him well enough to class him as one of my close friends, I hadn't seen him for at least a year; I would be lying if I denied that I hadn't thought about his whereabouts in the past.

I stepped aside, feeling his body brush past mine ever so slightly. I peered out on to the street curiously, before shutting the door, and after a second, locking it.

He wasted no time at all.

"Tifa, I have reason to believe that your life is in danger." He was never one to cushion the truth.

This told me that in the past year, while the rest of us had settled and tried to forget the horrors that ShinRa had created, he had done the polar opposite. He had made himself a free lance mercenary of a sort; working for himself, only for others if he needed the money, or so I had heard from Barret the last time I saw him.

"What?" I repeated incredulously. Was this man, who was cold and cruel on the outside and god knows what on the inside, concerned for me?

"ShinRa have developed a new underground Rebel faction." He said flatly, going over to stand by my window.

"Like SOLDIER? Or the Turks?" I asked. I was too nervous by now to sit.

"No. SOLDIER failed after ShinRa's greatest experiment went wrong, and when their failure succeeded in bringing around their downfall." He said.

Of course I knew he was talking about Sephiroth, the man who had taken away everything precious in my life, and Cloud. The man who had been my childhood friend, who had left to join SOLDIER, but never actually came back.

"So what are they then?" I scratched agitatedly at the table with my fingers.

"An elite force. I'm not really sure what makes them so hard to beat, but I'm sure we'll find out. If it was developed by them, then I can guarantee it's not going to be something nice." He muttered, anger evident in his voice.

"But we've beaten them before!" I cried incredulously. "Surely its nothing we can't handle! AVALANCHE was untouchable then, why not now, why?"

"Tifa… ShinRa have moved on to bigger and worse things since the days of reactors and the Turks."

"Surely not human experimentation, again?" I shook my head.

ShinRa were well known for meddling with human DNA, genetic make-up; everything they should not. I had seen for myself what horrors they could create. _Things_, that were so far from being the humans that they once were.

"Not this time. They haven't got Jenova to toy with anymore…" I detected slight relief in his tone. "But still, if this can surpass the power of Jenova, then I'm not really sure what we can do about it. Not with the intelligence we have at the moment…" he trailed off thoughtfully.

"Um… Vincent… whose 'we'?" I inquired, slightly curious.

"You'll see. AVALANCHE will no longer be the only Anti- ShinRa rebel group. People are revolting. They don't want things to go back to how they were. They have realised how much better it has been since Meteor." He told me. I smiled ruefully. The word of AVALANCHE had spread and it made me feel proud. "But still, we are in the dark over this, Tifa. That's why I can't afford to let you stay here." He turned around, leaning back on the window, so now I could see him properly in the light from my kitchen.

He'd had a haircut recently; it was cropped to his jaw line, and fell quite attractively over his eyes; those eyes… So haunting, and yet so beautiful; the deepest amber you could imagine, red like wine. The haircut flattered his narrow bone structure, and I found myself hiding a smile.

"You don't think I can look after myself?" I said with false sternness. He didn't seem to find me amusing.

"This is serious, Tifa. I can't tell you why at this time, but you have to come with me right now. I can't afford another casualty to stain my hands." He shook his head slightly. My smile disappeared.

There were thousands of questions I wanted to ask, welling up inside of me, but I rushed up the stairs at his words. I heard him follow me up.

"What do I need to bring with me?" I asked, as I dashed over to my wardrobe to grab a small packing case. I paused to look back at him, waiting. He was leaning on my doorframe.

"Only things to travel with. We could be up to three days." He told me. I opened a drawer and stuffed in a t-shirt.

"Three days? Where are we going?" I asked, reaching for my diary.

"It would be best if I didn't disclose that to you right now." He replied mysteriously.

"You worried someone may be spying?" I enquired, opening my underwear drawer and rummaging around inside.

"Yes. It's a possibility." He answered, his voice getting quieter. I turned around to see he had left the room. I smiled: Always a gentleman, Vincent.

I packed some spare underwear, and then left my room to retrieve my toothbrush from the bathroom cabinet. He was already in there, examining a bottle of pills from inside. I felt a spasm of panic.

"Anti-depressants?" he shook the bottle, the sound of only a few pills rattling inside. "Tifa, what-"

Thunder cracked overhead, shocking both of us. I took the bottle, a little forcefully, out of his fingers.

"My doctor prescribed them to me a few months ago." I admitted, my hands shaking slightly. I put them in the packing case I had, along with my toothbrush.

"I see."

I was surprised when he left the bathroom, and didn't ask any more questions. I think it annoyed me more than it would have, if he had of queried as to why I had them hidden behind the soap. What he may have or may not have assumed, I had to tell him the truth.

"I wasn't sleeping…" I called helplessly after him. I heard his footsteps falter.

"I know, Tifa." He answered. I felt a rush of gratitude for him.

Of course he knew what it was like. I had seen it in his face, still saw it now, if I cared to look hard enough. He was one of those people who kept his emotions inside, and did a good job at hiding what he was feeling, and thinking. But sometimes his eyes betrayed him. They showed pain, and sometimes they glowered in anger, making you cower under his gaze. Not that I had been a victim to one of his stares, but I had seen it.

"I couldn't face it alone…" I mumbled, more to myself than him. But I knew he was listening.

"Face what, Tifa?" he asked. His voice sounded closer. He was leaning on the wall outside the bathroom, waiting for my answer.

"Everything. I felt so drained. I wasn't eating. I wasn't caring anymore; guess I was lonely… I just needed someone to talk to…" I admitted. My hand gripped the sink's edge nervously. I heard him shift.

"Tifa, I'm sorry to interrupt but we really need to get going. Now." He pushed open the bathroom door.

I stared at him; He was holding my coat out to me. I reached out my hand and took it, and couldn't help smiling when he helped me into it. I shrugged my bag over my shoulders and followed him down the stairs.

He helped me rush around, turning off the lights and closing the doors. I took one look back over my shoulder, while at the front door.

My living room was cast into darkness. I followed him out of the front door into the night and the pouring rain. I locked the door behind me.

"Ready?" He asked me, his hands inside his jacket.

"Yes. If not now then never, right?" I asked, adding a nervous laugh. He nodded.

"Then let's go. They're waiting for me to come back with you."

Again I had that urge to ask whom it was he was taking me to, where, and why was I in danger. 'What's going on, Vincent?' I wanted to scream at him, but I held my tongue, and followed in his stride.

The town I now lived in had grown since the old days of ShinRa, when they were afraid of a power greater than themselves. Their ways of solving things, removing threats, were violent and unjust. Often they would try to eradicate people by killing a large section of the population (the bombing of the plate a prime example), with only the hope that they'd hit the right people. And more often than not, they failed.

Kalm was more of a city now, by rights. It had grown so, so much since before meteor. Small businesses flourished in its expanding streets, and more houses sprung up, to habilitate the people who fled from Midgar, using their newfound freedom to start over again somewhere new.

Just like me.

When everything was over, I didn't know where to go. I knew I had to go somewhere to start over, just like everyone around me. My hometown, Nibelheim was only a reconstruction of what it was, before it had been reduced to a pile of smoking rubble and ash. Midgar had been my home for several years when I owned my own bar, but that had been destroyed by ShinRa at the beginning of our journey, a year before.

I decided it would be best to live somewhere new, with new faces, but with no bad memories, a place where I could make my own. So I'd decided on Kalm. The money we'd collected on our journey allowed me to afford a small terrace with my share. I made it my own, and it felt more like home than any other place.

But now, once again in my life I was leaving my home behind, heading into danger, with the feeling I would never come back. I felt afraid again, as Vincent lead me through winding back streets and alleyways.

I knew New Kalm pretty well by now, and if I was correct, Vincent was taking me the short way to the train station.

Where we would go from there I had no idea. All I knew was that if you took the train as far as it would go in any direction, it was a three-hour train journey. That confirmed to me that most of our journey would be carried out on foot, considering he had alluded to a three day journey. I was privately glad I was wearing my sturdy boots, as I trudged through yet another puddle in a crack in the asphalt. Finally, we emerged out of the alleyways, into a well-lit street.

"We're here." He told me needlessly.

He strode over to the ticket office and bought two tickets, one for each of us. I didn't catch the location exactly, but I'm sure he said 'day pass'. The ticket office attendant looked at the clock in a confused manner, informing Vincent that the day was almost over. I saw Vincent give the man a swift smile, and reply, 'I know.'

He returned to me, as I stood shivering under the light from a street lamp.

"What was all that about?" I asked, my teeth chattering slightly. He took my upper arm in his grip and steered me towards the platform, his red eyes glancing up at the large mechanical clock, above the station building. It read quarter to eleven.

"If we are, indeed, being followed, then it would be hard for them to know where we went." He told me.

"How so?" I questioned, my interest piqued.

"Well in the next…" he glanced at the clock again. "Hour, three different trains will arrive in fast succession, each one going three different ways, to the end of the line. I bought us both a day pass, which means that I wouldn't need to specify which train we were taking. They won't know where we've gone for definite." He informed me, with a light smirk.

"Wow…" I murmured. "You sure put a lot of thought into that…"

"No, actually." I laughed at his answer.

"Of course not." I didn't say anything else to him.

I wrapped my arms tightly around myself, shivering still in the rain. My hair was stuck to my skin, the raindrops dripping from the shorter layers around my cheeks. I shook my head, watching them tumble. I was wearing a black flight jacket, but still, It wasn't as effective as Cid's had been at trapping out the cold. Vincent must have noticed this.

"Here." He said simply. I turned my head towards him. He had taken off his black jacket and was holding it out to me. I closed my fingers around it, accidentally brushing against the skin of his. I smiled shyly, noticing how he withdrew his hand like he'd touched something hot. I pulled it on, grateful.

"Won't you be cold?" I asked, concerned. He was only wearing a close fitted black t-shirt now. I could see his well-formed arm muscles and upper body, as the wet cotton clung to his skin. I shook myself mentally. He only laughed slightly in reply.

He was wearing a gun holster; I could see the leather straps across his shoulders, glimmering black in the rain. The guns themselves were ones I recognised. One of them was 'death penalty', the other, 'peacemaker'. He used 'death penalty' less frequently; it was more powerful, louder, and it needed frequent maintenance. Peacemaker was docile; it was silenced, and easier to manage.

"Won't people be asking questions?" I raised an eyebrow, burying myself inside his coat. He shrugged.

"That's their problem."

I stayed silent once more.

Soon enough, the sound of wheels screeching to a halt on wet, metal railway lines could be heard shattering the silence of the night, save for the pounding of the rain. The train skidded to a halt inside the station, the bright lights from the windows blinding me temporarily; I had gotten used to the darkness.

.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Vincent ushered me onto one of the carriages, his hand firmly gripping my forearm, leading me forwards. A ticket officer eyed Vincent suspiciously. His hand wandered to the inside of his jacket. Vincent, still holding onto my arm, let one hand move downwards.

"Hold it!" the guard cried, his gun aimed at Vincent, square between the eyes.

"Wait. I have I.D." Vincent said, calmly raising his free hand. The other still held onto me fast.

"Ma'am are you alright?" The guard asked, his eyes flicking towards me, filled with concern.

"Yes. I'm fine." I told the guard, glancing back at Vincent. I broke away from his grip and took a step back towards him. "He's with me…" I tried to reason.

"What are you doing?" He whispered furiously.

"Just getting us out of trouble." I hissed back. "Show him the I.D." I said loudly.

Vincent shrugged and slid a hand slowly into his pocket, bringing out a white card. He passed it to me, and then I showed it to the guard. The guard's eyebrows shot up, and he lowered his gun immediately.

"So sorry, sir. Follow me I'll get you seated right away." He said in a hushed way, his eyes darting this way and that. I handed Vincent his card back, giving him one last curious look before heading after the guard.

By now the train had started to move, and I almost fell as it jerked forwards. Vincent grabbed my wrist, saving me from a fall.

"Careful." He intoned under his breath. I swallowed. The nervous guard led us into what looked like the best, private cabin they had. I gave him a wide, timid smile as he left, calling him back before he slid the door shut. I rummaged into my bag and pulled out my purse. I handed him a folded 100gil note, winking as I did so. I noticed he was about to protest, but I silenced him.

"For your trouble." I said softly, ushering him out, refusing to take it back. He managed to call out a thank you through the gap, before I shut the door completely, and slid the latch across that would lock it. I turned around, my hands on my hips.

"Why did you do that?" I cried incredulously. His gun was laid across his lap, and he looked up from it with a sigh.

"Do what?" He sounded defeated.

"Scare the poor man to death! You made it look like I was a female hostage! I am perfectly capable of walking down a trains' gangway, thanks very much!" I fumed to him, my voice not quite a shout, lest anyone else wonder what was going on.

"I was just leading you to-"

"Well you could have walked in front!" I interjected, gesturing wildly with my hands.

"How could I have watched out for you if you were behind me?" His normally quiet voice was getting louder. I ignored his glaring eyes on me as I stood before of him.

"What you think I'm going to get kidnapped on a moving train?" I asked, a sneer in my tone. He bolted upright, his gun clattering to the floor. I knew I had crossed the line. He was a good head taller than me, His eyes boring down into mine menacingly. I swallowed, but stood my ground. I resolved not to let him walk all over me. _It was just a stare_, Tifa, I kept telling myself.

"It wasn't moving when we got on." His voice was a deathly whisper, close to my ear. It made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

"So?" my voice was faltering. He closed his eyes for a moment.

"Tifa… I don't want to argue. Please…. Just… it was for your own safety, all right. I'm just doing my job." He sighed, slumping back down into his seat, his head back, hands over his face.

"I see…" I whispered, feeling angry all over again. "So you're really just worried about the pay check you're going to get when we arrive, is that it?"

"Tifa, that's not it…" he mumbled through his hands.

"Goddamn it, look at me when I'm talking to you!" my voice wavered with fury. He pulled his hands away and leant forwards in his seat, his hands folded, his chin resting on them. His features were calm, but they only succeeded in enraging me further.

"What would you have me take care of you for, Tifa?" He asked me, his voice steady and calm.

"Oh it doesn't matter, for god's sake…" I threw my hands up in agitation and resignation, landing heavily on the seat opposite him, as far away as I could get.

I knew I shouldn't be angry, but grateful; he was trying to help me.

But I wanted answers.

I was confused, and lonely, even if he was with me. To be honest, he wasn't really much company. Then again, I suppose I had myself to blame; I was the one shouting at him.

I took my diary out of my packing case and began to write down the events of the night. Flicking back over my past entries, I realised how much I missed my futile, yet peaceful, even if uninteresting life. Finishing with the outcome of our argument, I closed to diary, and slipped it back into my bag. It had helped me to calm down, and set out my thoughts and feelings.

Feeling guilty, and slight embarrassed, I looked up from where I had been staring at the floor. He was gazing resolutely out of the window, even though it was too dark to see anything, his jaw clenched tightly.

I searched for the gun he had let fall to the floor; he hadn't picked it up.

I got out of my seat, aware of his eyes watching me. I avoided meeting his gaze, as I crouched to pick it up. I brushed the shining silver needlessly, as it was a clean as it could be- I could see my worried reflection in its surface.

I held it carefully for a moment, before rising to my feet, the gun clutched firmly in my hand.

"Tifa…" he began, his eyes widening slightly.

I had to laugh.

"I'm not going to shoot you!" I said, laughing despite myself. "Here… look I'm sorry… I just want answers that I know you can't give me yet. My temper is a little fragile so, forgive me in advance if I do it again."

I gave him my apology humbly, staring straight into his eyes. The way they softened at my words made me smile. I sat next to him now, my hands folded in front of me. He seemed contented with my choice of seating.

"We'll be another few hours at least. Try to get some rest…" He said after a while. I nodded and got up to return to my seat, when he took hold of my wrist. He looked up at me, his eyes meeting mine perhaps a little shyly.

"Forgive me. I'm not very good at talking at the best of times. Thank you for humouring me this far." He lowered his head, as if in shame. I shook my head and placed a hand softly on his shoulder.

"Not at all. It's my fault. I should understand that you're not the most articulate person at the best of times…" We both hid a smile. "What I mean is…" My expression grew serious. "I would have had no other person come rescue me. I trust you. Thank you for this, whatever it is, and I mean it."

Pleased that I had said my piece, I sat down on the opposite seat and turned off my overhead lamp. The only remaining light was his lamp, and the light filtering through the frosted glass of the cabin door. His light soon joined mine in the darkness, the cabin plunged into shadow.

"Tifa…" He began. I smiled to myself, knowing he couldn't see. I raised myself up onto my elbow, the coat I had draped across myself shifting as I moved. "I want you to know that I'm going to protect you as best I can. I don't want you to be afraid…"

I rested my head back down on my arm, smiling wider.

"I'm not afraid Vincent. And I believe in you, but also… I want to fight too. I can protect the both of us if I need to, so don't feel it's all on you, ok?" I turned over onto my back, my arms behind my head, ankles crossed over. I heard him let out a small laugh.

"Of course not. I wasn't expecting you of all people to sit back and let me have all the fun. Am I right?"

"Dead on." I laughed. "Good night Vincent. Wake me up just before we arrive." I closed my eyes.

"I will. Goodnight, Tifa."

After a time, the soft swaying of the train and the rhythmic clinking of the wheels on the rails sent me into a deep sleep. But still, I could not evade my dreams.

I dreamt I was running. Nothing else: just running down an endless, cobbled street, while it poured with rain. Soon, I came to a heavy wooden door.

Desperate to get out of the rain, I was pounding on the wood. It felt damp and sturdy under my fists. Then a voice said:

"You need a key, to get in." I looked to see Vincent leant against the door frame, a gold key on a chain swinging from his hand. "Everything has a key… Doors, questions, people …" I didn't understand what he was telling me. It was imperative that I opened the door before me.

"Can I have it?" I called to him. He smiled at me, and then straightened up off of the wall, closing his palm around the key. He came so close to me, I could feel his breathe on my cheek. It made me nervous.

"Some doors are best left locked, Tifa…" He whispered. His breathing was slow and warm on my cheek.

"Wake up Tifa." He said suddenly. Gone was the dreamlike mysticism, replaced by an urgent, worried look. I looked at him, raising a brow at his meaningless comment. "Wake up!"

. . . . . . . . . . . .

I opened my eyes, the darkness closing in around me as I battled to remember exactly where I was. It was impossible to see. I began to wonder what had woken me, when my eyes focused, and I saw two eyes, glowing a dull red out of the gloom.

"Vincent? Is that you?" I asked stupidly. The overhead light turned on, blinding me. I shielded my eyes with my arm.

"Yes. We're a few miles away from where we are headed." He answered obviously, aware that I was still in my tired stupor, heading back to his seat.

"I had a strange dream…" I began, running a hand through my hair, as I swung my legs over the side of the seat and sat upright.

"You did?" He asked me, his gaze resting on me softly as I rubbed my sleep-heavy eyes.

"You wouldn't give me the key to open this door… you told me…" I struggled to remember the details. The dream was slipping away like sand through my fingers. The more I tried to hold on to it, it just crumbled away; like blowing on smouldering paper.

"I told you…" He urged, his eyes shifting to the door, where a shadow had passed it. His eyes followed me as I walked towards the window.

I placed my palm against the glass, the cold shocking me. I rested my heated forehead on the cool surface, breathing out as I did so. In the talent I had left on the glass, I drew a love heart with my finger lazily, before shrugging, and using my sleeve to wipe the window clean and flawless once more.

"I have forgotten." I stated plainly, sitting back down, my hands folded before me. "Isn't that frustrating?" I asked rhetorically, placing my face in my cupped palms.

"Not really…" Vincent replied oddly. "I would gladly trade with you…" He mumbled.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"I would rather forget my dreams… but they stay fresh in my mind, no matter what duration of time has passed." He sighed, and for the first time, I saw how weary he was.

I also realised that I was lucky to be hearing about this subject matter; He was never one to disclose information about himself, at the best of times. I seized the opportunity.

"Are they bad?" I asked tenderly, looking up from my palms.

"Yes…" He replied, his eyes looking down at the gun he was turning over and over in his hands.

He looked slightly afraid and vulnerable, just sitting there and not looking at me. He was never one to avoid gazes, unless he had something to hide. I knew that much.

"Do they ever go away?" I said softly, regarding him from my circle of light. He was sat outside of it, in dim darkness. Where he liked to be, I thought.

"No…" He answered, ever more quiet. "Never." I waited, realised I was holding my breath. I tilted my head to one side, my long hair falling over my shoulder. It was still damp from being outside in the heavy rainfall, three hours before. It seemed an age away. "That's why I don't like to sleep. If I'm awake then… they can't hurt me, can they?" He told me. It sounded as though he was reading from a diary; a very personal diary.

I knew this topic was over.

"No. I guess not." I was going to say more, tell him how much I suffered from nightmares and broken sleep in the past over many different things, tell him he wasn't alone, wasn't the only one. But the train was slowing. He took this as an opportunity to get up, cancelling any hopes of continuing the conversation.

I would have to wait for another time.

I threw his coat back to him; I may need it later, but for the time being it would be best if he kept his weapons hidden. It was then I thought to ask about the I.D card.

"What was the I.D card for?" I asked him as I shrugged my pack on.

"It was a Junon police force badge." He told me, without any evidence of a smirk on his face.

"You're a cop?" I asked, smiling.

"Let's just say I'm doing an outside project at the moment." He told me, a small smile creeping onto his expression. "I lived in Junon for a year. I needed work to keep me occupied… Why, what did you think the pass was going to be?" He asked.

"Well I thought it could either be a fake ShinRa employee card; that'd frighten anyone into laying off you, or a card for whatever organisation it is you belong to," I told him my suspicions. "But I thought that would have been risky, seeing as ShinRa could have spies everywhere."

"Well both assumptions were plausible." He reasoned, while he was adjusting his coat to hide his holster.

"I just didn't see you working on the police force as the way you used to be," I admitted after a thought, with an apologetic tone.

"Yeah, neither did they. So I had to _change_ a little." He lifted his eyes upwards to his hair. "Good thing I suppose. I _can_ see better now." I almost laughed at the light-hearted turn our conversation was taking.

"It suits you." I dared to say.

"Thanks. So does yours."

I'd had a haircut since AVALANCHE, too. It now only fell down my back, no longer brushing my thighs. There were layers around my face, and I didn't have a fringe to get in my way anymore. I was pleased he'd noticed.

"It'll be easier to manage now, what with fighting and all…" I told him. "Will I need to equip myself?"

"Yes, that would be best." He said back, after a pause.

I slid my tight leather gloves over my hands and flexed my fingers, satisfied in how the material creaked. The knuckles were reinforced with hidden metal plates, and I recalled how I'd once had a pair with studs on them.

The train screeched to a halt. I looked out of the window. There didn't seem to be a station in sight, just a lonely stone platform in the middle of nowhere. I looked to Vincent.

"Guess we're the only ones getting off here?"

"Only if we managed to mislead anyone who may be following. This _was_ the last train of the day so…" He trailed off.

There was a knock at the cabin door.

"Sir? Madam?" the guard from earlier called through to us. "It's your stop."

Vincent strode forwards and unlocked the door, sliding it open fast enough to startle the unsuspecting guard.

"Sorry about earlier," Vincent muttered as he walked past him, only stopping when he was at the door of the train, waiting to exit. I reached his side.

"You're going out first, right?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

He reached his hand inside his coat, and pulled out _Peacemaker. _The metal gleamed in the glow from the overhead lights. He stepped outside, his head looking in all directions for someone, anyone who may be a threat.

Apparently satisfied that the barren station would stay that way, he signalled for me to get off. I stepped of the warmth of the train, into the chill of the early morning hour.

"Where are we?" I asked, drawing my coat tightly round me.

"Do you have your PHS?" He asked randomly. The PHS was a phone device we had used to keep in contact with each other while we were on the field. I shook my head. Apparently satisfied, he went on to answer my question. "Somewhere east of Junon." He informed me, as the train's doors hissed shut, and it began to pull away from the station. I waited till the roar of the engines had died away before speaking again.

"Where do we go now?" I looked after the train wistfully, wishing I was still aboard it, heading back home where I could curl up to sleep in the warmth and dryness of my own bed…

"To my house. I have to let them know I've got you and that you are safe." He shifted so that his gun hand was relaxed at his side. But I knew he was still alert beneath the surface.

"Can't you just phone them with a PHS?" I asked.

"No. I could, but I'd have no way of knowing if the line was secure. Someone could have traced every step I took. I have had no communication with anyone since I set off for Kalm yesterday."

He began walking away from the station, towards a set of stairs that cut off the stone from the grassy terrain. The station seemed to be placed in the middle of a farmer's field, and was oddly out of place in such an empty, sparsely populated area.

"Wasn't that a little risky?" I asked, creasing my brow, following him down the stairs. "Not having any contact with them? Something could have gone horribly wrong, and they wouldn't have known any better."

"That was a risk I was willing to take." He replied. I felt grateful all over again. He didn't seem to want to talk anymore, I noted, as he kept his eyes to the ground as we walked.

The terrain around us was slightly hilly, with a few crags and knolls here and there. The fallow field was dotted with large oak trees, standing tall and ghost like in the darkness. It was not raining this far away from Kalm, and so the sky was clear. The light from the moon guided us across the expanse of land, until we came to the outskirts of a forest.

"We're going in there?" I asked, although I knew what the answer was going to be. It looked scary; the trees were swaying, moaning in the wake of a passing breeze. An owl hooted not far from where I was standing. I stamped my feet to keep warm.

"Yes we are." He stepped through a gap in the trees and was undoubtedly swallowed by the impending darkness. I hesitated, looking behind me at the solitary lamp shining at the station. I longed to be at home. Sighing and realising it was useless to dwell on the unreachable, I followed.

It was distinctly cooler under the tree's canopy. The leaves whispered, and the branches whined in the wind. The dirt crunched softly under my boots. A sudden movement ahead of me made my heart jump, but it was only a rat, scampering into a hollow beneath a tree.

However, in the dark, underneath the sub-sounds of the forest it was silent: I couldn't hear Vincent.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Press the review button… I Know you want to….

Read on!

I honestly have no idea why the site makes some bits bold. I've reuploaded and it's done the same, so my apologies.


	2. Chapter 2 Revised

Chapter 2 Revised. Sorry if people who this story to Alert keep getting bombarded with updates. I'm just trying to improve this!- apologies for Boldness, if it continues.

Jessica J

. . . . . . . . . .

Annie's mistake

I swallowed down my trepidation. He was a lot quieter than me, and probably scouting ahead, so I should stay calm. I stood still, with my back to a huge oak tree. The seconds passed. Minutes. I started to panic. Should I call out his name?

"Vincent?" I mumbled, my voice failing me.

Only a birdcall answered me.

"Vincent!" I called out louder. A bird roosting in the tree over my head flapped away loudly, its wings beating into the night, shattering the silence left that I had not broken. I ducked instinctively, waiting until the sound of its flapping wings died away.

I decided that waiting would do me no good. Stepping forwards carefully to avoid leaves or twigs, I advanced into the forest. With or without Vincent, I would have to reach Junon. That would be what he would have wanted. That was what he had come to do, and so I would do it alone.

Just when I wished for the wind to rustle in the trees and cause them to sigh, the breeze dropped. I froze in the imminent silence, my eyes screwed up, and my muscles coiled mid-step.

This wasn't happening. I was still asleep on the train… soon Vincent would wake me up, and we'd get off the train at a platform that would look totally different to the one I'd gotten off at in my dream.

I was repeating my little mantra so much I actually began to believe it. I was spacing out. I needed to get back to reality and move onwards, before anything could happen. I opened my eyes. The wind was blowing again. Letting out a sigh of relief, I began to walk forwards normally.

That's when I saw him.

"Vincent?" I whispered, my eyes wide in horror. He was lying on his back on the forest floor behind a particularly thick grove of trees. His eyes were closed tightly. I couldn't see any attacker.

Bracing myself, I stepped forwards.

"Stop."

I froze. Something was prodding me in the back.

"Step over his body an' walk to that tree, there. An' do it slowly now, or I'll fire a shot through yer head."

It was a woman's voice. I longed to turn around and kick the living breath from her, but I knew I was overpowered. I could win her in a hand-to-hand fight, but she had a gun.

I couldn't fight against a bullet.

I did as she asked, getting a good look at Vincent as I did so. I hadn't heard a gunshot, I thought. Maybe, just maybe, he was alive. I prayed that he was as I reached the tree that the woman specified, and stopped.

"Now turn around." I could hear her footsteps behind me crunching over the leaves. She was stepping over Vincent.

When I did turn around, I found myself staring down the barrel of a shotgun.

"You seem ta be a littl' nervous, dear." She said, jerking her gun slightly. "So wus your friend… Vincent, did ya say?"

The woman looked to be in her forties, with greying blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail. She wore dirty jeans and a man's shirt, with a wide-rim hat on her head, hiding her eyes. Her accent was thick.

"You don't know him?" I asked. I could see hope. If she was ShinRa, she would know who Vincent was; AVALANCHE would be top of their hit list for sure.

"No, never seen 'im afore in my life. Why, should ah?" she asked. I almost sighed with relief.

"You're not ShinRa?" I dared to inquire. Her eyes seemed to flare, and her mouth tightened.

"Hell no! Ain't havin' no ShinRa scum on ma land!" She spat on the ground.

"We're not ShinRa." I said calmly, noticing how her finger twitched on the trigger.

"Sure, ya'r." she grumbled, raising the gun to eye level, squinting down the shaft.

"No, no wait! I'll prove it! Go in his left pocket and there should be a badge. He's with the junon police!" I jerked my head towards Vincent's motionless form, my hands still behind my head.

"Police ya say?" she grunted as she thought it over. "Sure, but try anythin' funny, n yer head'll be blown to smithereens." She warned. I nodded vigorously.

She back stepped a few paces, giving me one last scrutinising look before crouching to rummage inside his pocket.

I hoped he wouldn't wake up. It could have been fatal for her. She wasn't bad, she was just trying to defend her land from ShinRa, like we all were.

She emerged triumphant with the pass. Her eyes ran over the small plastic card, and the gleaming metal badge before she pulled across the safety catch on her weapon. The click made me jump.

"Alrigh'. Yer not ShinRa." She grunted as she got to her feet. I noticed she still aimed her gun at me. "Then why are you with 'im? You a criminal?"

I sighed and shook my head.

"No he's my guard." I answered. I could offer her no more proof than my word. Thankfully, she seemed to believe me to be sincere.

She strode over to me, her shotgun resting on her shoulder.

"Sorry 'bout that ma'am, name's Annie, Annie Fortson." She shook my hand. Her skin was rough and callused; a farmer.

"I'm Tifa." I brushed off the introductions. "What happened to him?" I asked, walking past her to kneel by Vincent's lifeless form.

"Aw shucks," she groaned, rubbing her neck. She prodded his ribs with her boot. He responded with a grunt. "I whacked him pretty good. Knew there were two of yer, yer see. Couldn' give mysel' away with a shot, now could ah?"

"Will he be ok?" I asked, pulling him upright as best I could.

"Sure, maybe a little bed rest'll do 'im good. How 'bout as an apology, ya'll stay at mine fer the night. Got some fresh home cookin' goin' yer wouldn' wanna miss, 'n' 'sides, he don't look too good, Miss Tifa." I nodded.

"Sure sounds good. But I'll need help carrying him…" I couldn't support his body weight. His head hung forwards onto his chest as I tried to keep him in a sitting position. I realised the truth in Annie's words as I noticed the head wound just above his eyebrow. It would leave a bruise.

Annie stepped over me, and with the strength of a full-grown man, she heaved him upright. Between us, we managed to drag him a good struggle to her house, a cosy little cottage embedded in the centre of the forest.

It was warm inside; heated by a large wood-burning furnace. A wave of heat hit us as we struggled to slip through her front door. We eventually managed by going through sideways. We were able to dump Vincent on a bed in a cosy little room upstairs. He showed no signs of waking.

"Wadaya say we grab a cuppa, eh?" Annie clapped her hands together cheerfully once we had returned down the stairs into her cosy living room.

"That sounds great." I smiled at her.

"Gawd you sure look tired, miss. What time do ya call this, anywhay?" She shook her head as she filled up the kettle in her kitchen.

The kitchen had solid wood units, and a sturdy scrubbed table shoved against the far wall. Miss-matched chairs surrounded it, and it was on one of these that I sat down.

"Aw damn, sorry take a seat an' make yerself at home, Teefa." She haphazardly put condiments on the table before me: a jug full of milk, two mugs, the sugar bowl, a spoon and a fat teapot with hens painted on the enamel. She crashed onto a seat to my left and began to pour out tea.

"So tell me… who's this Vincent person I got's sleepin' in ma spare room?" she winked at me. I felt a pang of familiarity with the way she was acting, but it did not come to me why.

"He's…" I looked at my hands. I never really generalised my relationship with Vincent. He was a hard person to do so with. "An old acquaintance of mine. I'm not really that familiar with him to call him a friend." I admitted, rubbing my hands together. I was feeling warm enough to take off my black jacket. I shrugged it off and draped it across the back of my chair.

"Ya look strong, fer a young 'en. You work on a farm?" she asked, eyeing my arm muscles. I smiled widely.

"No. I'm a master at Tai-quan-do and kendo." I said shyly. She snorted into her tea.

"Well I'll be… surprised you didn' kick the crap outta a pissy old lady like me!" I joined in her laughing. I closed my hands around the warm mug and stared pensively through the steam rising from it.

"So why do _you_ hate ShinRa?" I asked, voicing what I had been thinking for a while now, since I had met her. She leant forwards in her seat and slammed her mug down a little forcefully. Tea sloshed over the rim of the cup, onto the table, but she didn't seem to have noticed, or if she had, to care.

"They always tryin' to sneak aroun', killin' people in the next city. I seen 'em do it. Heard 'em too, would you believe it. The commotion I hear sometimes, it's unbelievable… anywhay, one day I comes outta my house, and I sees one of them, draggin' a young 'en by my place. Well I was sick of it. I said 'git your filthy hands of that young girl', but he ran away. Next day I find tha some o' my cattle's bin killed. Ain't nobody it coulda bin _but_ the ShinRa! They couldn' ever take an insult on the chin!" she slammed her fist on the wood. "I was never a fan of 'em back in the days of mako. I alus used coal 'n' wood fer ma fire."

"ShinRa's reign of terror is nowhere near over, Mrs Fortson. I don't want to believe it, but it's going to happen all over again. I can't bear to watch it again."

She grunted in approval and crossed her arms, sitting back in her seat.

"Damn right, too. Only hopes them AVALANCHE getting' 'em again; People like them wi' back bones! Tha's what we need! Boy I'd love to help 'em." She shook her head, staring at the teapot. "

"Well," I began, a wide smile threatening to break onto my face. "You are helping them."

"I _am_?" she asked stupidly. She then stared at me for a long minute, before she had inevitably put two and two together. "You mean ta say that you're _the_ Tifa from AVALANCHE?" she almost rose from her seat, but I put my hand on her arm.

"Yes. I guess so…" I blushed. She laughed heartily and clapped me hard on the shoulder.

"You go get 'em girl. Show 'em we don' need none of their crap no more." She shook her head while smiling. But then she stopped. "Then that guy I knocked out… he was AVALANCHE too?"

"Um, well yeah, he was. With us, that is." I smiled sympathetically. "Look I'm sure he'll be fine when he wakes up. He'll be glad that at least one female is looking out for herself." I shrugged and distracted myself with my tea.

"What's that mean, Tifa?" she leaned closer, her chin on her folded hands. I suddenly made the connection. She was acting like my grandma used to, when I was a little girl. A very lively lady, who always made you feel welcome. Annie must have sensed something amiss in the lengthening silence.

"Somethin' wrong?" she folded her arms.

"You remind me of someone that I used to know… that's all…" I sighed, shaking my head.

"Grandma by any chance?" she rolled her eyes. "Alus the grandmaw. Geez, do I look that old?" she shook her head, but I knew she was smiling.

"No, Annie, you don't look a year below… 38." I took a stab in the dark.

"Good. 'Cause I'm 42." She seemed rather smug. "Naw, its since ma husband passed away that I really started to stop carin' 'bout myself." she indicated to her tattered and work-worn clothing. "Died… when he was… 39. About, oh, I dunno, four years back? Savaged by monsters on his way home from the mines."

I reached out a hand and placed it over hers.

"Aw, Annie, I'm sorry to hear it." she smiled up at me, her watery blue eyes twinkling.

"Shucks, that was ages ago. Alls I got is my dog and myself." she jerked her head to the side. There, curled up in a wicker basket was a black and white collie, sleeping soundly next to the furnace. "That's Hollie. She don' do much, but she makes dang good company…" she stared lovingly at it for a moment, before shaking out of her reverie and turning to me.

"You, missy, get up those stairs and get yourself a shower and go get some sleep. There's another bed in that room we put sleepin' beauty in, so help yerself to it. See ya in the mornin'. I'll have breakfast ready fer ya."

She said all of this whilst ushering me out of my seat and up the stairs. She pointed me in the direction of the bathroom, then winked and returned downstairs.

I was seriously tired by now.

It was 4am.

_Nightmarescape diaries_

_Exert from Vincent's dairy, two days before Tifa's rescue. Entry 1_

_My shrink told me that this creepy shit would help me stop dreaming, or at least to find out what was causing them. If _he_ could see inside my head at night, _he_ wouldn't be able to sleep too. Think they understand me, but they don't, _can't_. But what the hell, I may as well try._

_Ok, so last night I didn't sleep either. Nor did I the night before that. But I dropped off about an hour ago. Obviously it was short-lived. Dreamt that Lucrecia was getting torn to pieces. All there was to hear was screams, and someone's manic laughter. Two guesses who. Yeah, Hojo. Blood everywhere, hand prints on the walls. _

_I've had worse, put it that way._

_Exert from Vincent's dairy, the day before Tifa's rescue. Entry 2_

_I have to go get her. I can't just leave her there. I dreamt about her last night when I fell asleep. She was running, screaming, being chased by something. Naturally I was helpless. Couldn't do anything to help her. No matter how fast I ran, they had the edge on me. I only caught up to her when it was her corpse I was chasing. Torn apart like nothing. _

_I woke up in cold sweat. Never dreamt about another woman before, even if it was in this way. I think I have to go and help her. ShinRa will _not_ have their way with another innocent woman, if I can help it. I _won't_ fail this time, I swear I won't. She won't face this alone._

_Exert from Vincent's diary, day of Tifa's rescue Entry 3_

_She's here with me now, on the train. Sleeping. I wonder if she has nightmares too… maybe I could relate to her in that way. I don't think anyone has them like I do, has them so bad they can't sleep for days, weeks. She seems ok, but her expression is agitated. She's mumbling something. Something I can't make out very well._

_Well we're nearly at the stop, so I'll wake her up now. Maybe I'll be saving her from something unintentionally. Wish someone would do that for me now and again. _

_I can't fail her._

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

I touched my face, the woman in the glass copying my movements. Steam began to rise from the running hot tap. Shaking myself, I reached down and cupped my hands, collecting hot water and splashing it onto my face. I twisted the taps, cutting the flow off.

Collecting my things, I left Annie's small bathroom and entered the darkened room where Vincent was still lying asleep, presumably. I still had his police I.D badge in my pocket, where I had stowed it safely until we got him out of the night.

I pulled it out, running my fingers over the shining metal shield on the inside of the leather case I had found it in. Vincent's name was written on it. I smiled. It was a strange thing to see, really. I walked to the side of his bed, looking down at him pityingly.

He could be dreaming now, suffering in silence from horrible nightmares, and I wouldn't know about it. Even if I did, I wouldn't be able to wake him. He would be out cold for a few hours. Possibly he was sleeping peacefully for once, a dreamless sort of coma that the impact of being hit by the butt of Annie's gun had brought about.

I sat on the edge of the bed, a cool flannel in my hand that I had brought from the bathroom. I pressed my hand on his forehead, finding it damp and hot. Frowning, I gently laid the cool cotton cloth on his skin, dabbing at it gently.

I felt around tentatively for a sign of a head wound. My fingers came back red from somewhere at the back of his cranium. I lifted him up as best I could, placing the cloth there to stem any further blood flow. The bruise on his forehead must've been where he hit the ground.

He mumbled something incoherent, his head turning towards me where I held him. I couldn't help but smile: such a strange predicament to find myself in.

Letting him lie back on the pillow, I scrambled into the spare bed, feeling delight in the warmth of the thick eiderdown cover, thrown over the sheets. I fell asleep almost instantly.

The sun was just coming up.

_Nightmarescape diaries part II_

_Exert from Vincent's diary, after the attack Entry 4_

_I've woken up in this strange house. Don't know where I am at all. Thought I might as well die, after I failed Tifa… but then I found her asleep in the bed across from mine, perfectly all right. _

_My head hurts; I think someone knocked me out, but I don't recall much. Only that it hurt like hell._

_Speaking of hell, I had the worst, and weirdest dream. Dreamt Lucrecia was stood in the dark, in my view, her head down. She was calling my name. I couldn't answer her; no matter how hard I tried. She was getting shot, over and over. The sounds of the bullets clinking on asphalt seemed to go on forever. Too late, I was able to walk, able to get to her. Seventeen bullets. _

_I dropped to my knees, and then the ground fell away beneath me. I was sliding into a pit of burning flames, other peoples' screaming piercing my ears. I couldn't shut it out. But the strangest thing about this dream was that all the other time's I've dreamt it yeah shrink I've had this dream before. I ended up shackled in chains, just like the rest of those god-forsaken monsters, down there with me. But this time, something took hold of my arm. _

_I looked up and there was a woman, dressed in white, with wings of gold. She was smiling, I think, but she was too bright. I couldn't see her properly. She pulled me back up to wakefulness. She rescued me from my nightmare. I woke up a few moments later to find myself here, in a strange house, to find Tifa alive and well, after I thought all was lost. _

_strange._

_Entry a few minutes after previous Entry 5_

_I've just met the owner of the house. She seemed to know me, for some reason. Funny, because I've never seen her before. She said she was sorry for knocking me out, explained that it she thought was ShinRa. _

_She told me something very strange then. She said, Vincent, I know it sounds strange, but I think someone meant for me to hit you. But with the result of death. I was warned that ShinRa would be passing through, two agents. A man and a woman. She told me that ShinRa were up to foul play, and that I should be careful, and take good care of Tifa._

_I'm now sat on the bed. It's just after the dawn, about six. I had another dream. Sleeping a lot more, now, huh shrink? You can screw all your mentality crap._

_The bright winged woman was there again. I wasn't going to have a nightmare this time, and I knew it. Shrink, you thought I wasn't aware, I'm aware all right. Too much. She didn't say anything to me at all; she was just sat there, smiling down at me. It was too bright, so I couldn't really look at her face._

_I reckon about now my Shrink would be asking me why I couldn't see her. Well, I'd tell him, you'd say it's because I'm denying her presence. You'd tell me that there was someone who was stopping me from falling in my dreams. _

_But I'd say that was a load of crap. I think I can't see her because I'm not actually meant to see her. She's not real; she's just a figment of my imagination. Then again, why has she come now, why now? And who is she? _

_I'm just contradicting myself now, I know. Maybe it's a mixture of both of them. Maybe she is real, but I can't see her because I'm afraid to change._

_Which reminds me…_

_In my dream, that woman was there; the one who owns this house. She was stood in the forest with her shotgun over her arm and this… dog at her feet. She spat on the ground and said; _

"_Vince, there's sometimes light in the darkest of places. You just need to know where to look."_

_. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . _

I was dreaming again.

I was walking down a street; everyone was sitting outside their homes, with their belongings around them on the doorsteps. It was if they were waiting for a ship to pick them up and take them away. They all watched me walking past, eyes wide, and lips tight shut.

The sun was shining onto the dusty track road, the light golden before my feet. I stopped in the road. A little girl was staring up at me with tears on her cheeks. I crouched before her. She looked afraid.

"Who are you?" she asked, frightened.

"I'm…" I didn't know the answer. The only thing I knew was that it wasn't my voice I was speaking with. It was deeper. "My name is Vincent." My dream was playing out before me, and I had no control.

"Haven't you heard? There's no hope." She said plainly. She was expecting him to understand. I was no longer being inside of his mind anymore. I was separating.

"Yes, I've heard." He bowed his head. "But I need to find light."

"Then you'll need to look in there." The little girl pointed to a door, rusting on its hinges. It lead into a large, desolate house.

"I will look. Thank you." He got up from crouching and wandered over to the house. I followed him.

He opened the door, a resonating creak ensuing. Before him, leant on the wall, was an extremely dirty mirror, with no other features to speak of apart from the broken chain, which once undoubtedly let it hang from the wall.

There was nothing else at all in the room, save for dusty floorboards and a window. The disturbed dust drifted on the air, moved by the draught from the door. It sparkled and shimmered in the golden sun.

He walked to the mirror, and stopped. I looked over his shoulder. I could see nothing, save for a bright golden shape. Coming from the door, I presumed. He seemed to know what it was, though, and smiled.

"I've found the light." He said. "Now all I need is a key."

. . . . . . . . . . .

Not changed much about this, I was relatively pleased with how it turned out first time.


	3. Chapter 3 Revised

Should be a few changes here, I feel it reflects my immaturity upon writing. Uh-oh. Sorry for update emails guys.

Chapter 3 Revised

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_A little warmth_

I woke abruptly. Vincent was sat up in his bed, writing in a small leather bound book. I felt a surge of relief that he was awake, and seemingly well. I stretched, and then sat up, pushing the covers aside so I could do so. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, and stood upright. Judging by the warm glow of the sun, it was well into the morning.

"Are you feeling well?" I asked, leaning to reach my diary from my pack; It seemed important to me that I should try to get down all the details, before they evaded me once more.

"Yes. I'm perfectly all right." He answered after a moment, watching me carefully.

I scribbled down what details I could, my tongue between my teeth.

"You were in my dream again," I told him, passing him my journal open at today's page. His ruby eyes scanned the brief summary of my dream scrawled there.

"Ah." He intoned enigmatically.

"What's 'ah' supposed to mean?" I mumbled, snatching it back to see if there was some sort of hidden meaning that I hadn't grasped.

"It kind of ties in with what _I_ dreamt about, that's all." he crossed to the window, stretching his sleep-cramped muscles. I noticed his hand wandered to the back of his head, where Annie had dealt an almost fatal blow.

"And what was that?" I drew my knees up and hugged them tightly.

"Something Annie said… there's light in the darkest of places. You just need to know where to look. And you say in your dream, I told you, 'I've found the light, now all I need is a key.' It all ties in, strangely…" He leant forwards, his hands on the small table before the window. His deep red eyes scanned over the landscape outside.

I slapped a hand to my head.

"That's it!" I called out. He looked at me peculiarly. "In that dream I had on the train you said to me;" I grabbed the paper I had given him. Beneath both of the quotes I had written, I wrote the third. I passed it to him.

"_Some doors are best left locked_?" he read out loud.

"Yes. That's what you said." Apparently it made more sense to me that it did to him. Before I could explain further however, I could hear footsteps coming up the stairs. There was a knock at the door.

"You two up? Thought I heard ya talkin'." Annie's voice sounded from the other side of the door.

"Yeah we're awake, Annie." I called, a smile growing on my face.

"Then I'll get an early breakfast goin'. See ya downstairs, Teef." With that I could hear her trudging back down again.

Vincent frowned slightly.

"I guess you befriended her while I was out cold last night?" he shook his head.

"What's wrong with that?" I cried, incredulous.

"You're too trusting, Tifa. It'll get you into trouble one day." He passed me through the door, presumably to wash in the bathroom. I felt angry.

"Oh sure. Well maybe I wouldn't have been in that predicament if you hadn't gotten yourself knocked out!" I called after his retreating back. He stopped and turned around quickly, startling me as I had followed him out of the door. I expected him to shout, so I was surprised when he sighed.

"Yes, you're right. I'm sorry." He shut the door to the bathroom without a slam. That possibly, made me feel worse.

"Vincent?" I called to him, biting my lip. "Are you listening?"

"Do I have a choice?" I heard him reply. He was leaning on the door, keeping me from opening it. I rested my forehead on the wood, then turned and leant against it too.

"I'm sorry, Vincent. I know I'm holding you back, being weak and helpless and all. I know your job and reputation probably depends on my survival, so I'll do my best to behave next time. Maybe I'll put in a good word for you? Get you a bonus or something. See you at breakfast."

I walked away from the door, halfway down the stairs, and then stopped. I sat on the fifth step down and let the tears fall down my cheeks. I was being a downright cow to Vincent, but he was annoying me, thinking he knew everything about people and how they work.

Maybe he had known more bad people that I have, but I know that there are good people too. He just needed to see that not everyone has to be ShinRa or Anti-ShinRa. He needs to learn how to trust again.

I wiped away my tears and took a deep breath. I didn't want Annie asking questions, of Vincent _and_ me; it would make me feel worse. So it was with a breezy smile that I entered the kitchen, taking the same seat I had the night before, at Annie's left.

She was currently bent over the stove, frying something in a pan. She rubbed her hands together and turned to face me, leaning back on the counter with her arms folded. She cocked her head to one side on seeing my face.

"Alrigh' what yer bin cryin' fer?" she sighed, pulling the kettle onto the stove. She shook her head at my failed attempt to act innocent. My shoulders slouched forwards.

"Its… I've just been a little hard on Vincent…" I admitted, feeling like crying all over again. Annie sat down heavily, patting my shoulder reassuringly.

"How so? I'm guessin' tha' he ain't exactly mr relaxed." She smiled grimly.

"You talked to him last night didn't you?" I asked. She nodded.

"Only wondrin' who I was, and askin' of you wus alrigh'." Annie smiled reassuringly, offering me a tissue for the tears that had started to fall.

"See? He's so nice to me and then I just go and say that to him." I sniffed, dabbing at my eyes with the tissue. Annie snorted and leant back in her seat.

"C'mon girl, you ain't blameless. You've been taken from yer home, wi' no explanation at all. You're bound ta be angry, upset, confused, hell girl, so would I."

"He told you about that?" I looked up from where I had been fiddling with the tablecloth.

"Yer," she grunted as she got up from the table, to take the kettle off of the stove. "He told me a lot of things. Looked like he wus a littl' boy lost in a hospital when he firs' came down. Said he'd had a dream and couldn't sleep. Wudda felt sorry for him too, if he weren' pointin' a gun at me!" she chuckled as she poured out boiling water.

"He told you he had a dream?" I asked softly. I was feeling sorry for him again.

"Yeah. But he said that he saw something strange- something that'd never happened before." she placed down three cups of tea on the table to join the sugar and milk. "Somethin' 'bout a woman- with wings of gold and she was so bright he couldn't look at her righ'." Annie seemed to have gone quiet.

"Wow…" I sighed, wrapping my hands around the warmth of my mug. "Good for him, I guess. By the sounds of the dreams he usually has… I think it must be a relief for him, somehow." I thought out loud.

"Kinda frustratin' though…" she rubbed her neck. At that moment Vincent entered the kitchen, looking as Annie had previously described him; a young boy lost in a hospital. "-Not knowing who she was." She finished in an undertone, as she got up from her seat to attend to breakfast.

I watched Annie curiously as she handed him a small piece of paper. He looked at it, then folded it and put it in his pocket. I thought nothing of it, as Vincent's expression was the key point of my focus.

Vincent sat on my other side, his hands placed awkwardly on the table's surface. He looked unable to find something to occupy himself with.

"Vincent…" I mumbled, not taking my eyes away from my tea. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" He asked me. I looked up, wondering if he was being rude, but to find that he was dead serious.

"Sorry for throwing around empty accusations…" I lifted my tea to my lips, blowing out over the surface. I watched the ripples fade.

"No, you were right. I wasn't doing my job." It was his turn to look down at his tea. "I should have protected you better." His eyes lifted to meet mine. A shiver went down my spine as I felt the compassion burning from them, into me. "I won't fail next time Tifa, I promise."

For the briefest moment, I swore I could feel his hand brush mine, as it lay on the table surface. I didn't see, as I couldn't tear my gaze from his, as he held my eyes in an iron stare. It seemed I had imagined it, or he had altered his decision to touch me last minute. Either way, both of us let it pass through recognition.

We ate in silence.

_Nightmarescape Diaries III_

_Exert from Vincent's diary, a few hours after dawnEntry 6_

_Tifa is right. I'm failing her. I'm treating her like she is unable to protect herself. If she were not able, then she would not have saved my life. She would not have come to trust Annie._

_I am too afraid to go and comfort Tifa as she cries on the stairs. I am sat against the bathroom door, keeping myself in, and everyone out. I'm just hiding away from what I cannot face, and that is the truth. I should be thanking Tifa; I should be apologizing to her._

_Shrink, I think your bullshit advice is actually coming in useful. In my dream, Annie said to me, "Vince, there's sometimes light in the darkest of places. You just need to know where to look."_

_It's all linked together, somehow._

_Some doors are best left locked…?_

_Sounds like something I'd say to get her to drop something. I remember in the days of AVALANCHE she'd be fighting too hard. I'd say to her, some battles are best left not won. She always kept at it till she beat them. _

_Does it mean that she hopes to find an answer to a question that has no answer? Does it mean she is fighting a losing battle? One she will keep at until she wins… that sounds like Tifa, for sure._

_It hurts too much to say sorry, just like looking at the brightest light._

_. . . . . . . . . . . . _

I was unable to shake my sudden sense of shame, when recalling the event at breakfast. I was so sure he had touched my hand, then. Something had changed between us; we were no longer able to make solid eye contact. Although I wasn't ready to admit it, I had written it down in my diary as possible attraction.

Hard to believe, but still it wasn't implausible.

I blew my hair out of my eyes impatiently, grappling my way up a steep grass bank, some six hours journey away from Annie's home. We'd left at noon, and I was missing her already, even though I'd only known her for a short time. I think it was because she reminded me of the family I no longer had.

I stopped eventually at the top of the hill I had toiled up, my chest rising and falling with rapid, laboured breathing. I was fit, but it still took its toll on me. Vincent stopped next to me, and sat down too, clearing his throat. I moved my arm from where it had been over my eyes. He was holding an apple and a bottle of water out to me. I grinned widely, all embarrassment gone in my fatigue.

"Thanks, Vincent." I took them gladly.

I was brought smashing down to reality when our fingers touched. There it was again. The same inexplicable feeling I had experienced sat at Annie's table. To avoid talking, I drank deeply from the bottle, and then took a bite from my apple, crunching on it forcefully.

I stood up and walked over to a lonely tree, leaning at the top of the hill. Its branches were bowed, and I was able to climb into it using one hand, as I ate my apple with the other. I shifted until I was sitting comfortably with my back against the tree narrow trunk.

It was an apple blossom tree, in full flower. I reached out and touched the delicate pink clusters with my fingers, pulling gently, so a single bloom came free off the branch. It smelled sweet and aromatic. It reminded me of a faraway place with warm night air and lit candles, with little bridges of stone: Wutai, if my memory serves me correctly. It made me want to be there.

Vincent was staring through the branches, to the pinking sky beyond. The sun was disappearing behind the mountains slowly, and the sky was turning a delicate candyfloss colour. A few stray petals spiralled down from their clusters, drifting on a whisper of a breeze.

"Is something wrong Tifa?" He asked me, a sigh evident in his voice. It was then I began to wonder whether it was just me that could feel the attraction, whether it was just my imagination. I decided to bluff my way out, until I knew for sure what was going on, if anything was, between us.

"I'm ok… just tired I guess…" I lied, rubbing my arm and sighing deeply. "Missing my house…" I smiled distantly.

"I see… not anyone else then?" he intoned, with a hint of a suggestion.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked rather fearfully. What did it have to do with him that I had a boyfriend at home in New Kalm, probably wondering where I was, as I hadn't let him know I was going.

When I looked at Vincent, I realised he had meant it as a joke, not as anything else. My hands went to my mouth.

"I was implying about Annie…" He told me. He seemed to be battling internally with himself, before saying- "So there is someone at home? Will they be worrying?"

"Yes there is. I've…" I swallowed. "His name is Tom. I've only been dating him for three months now… he lives in Kalm, works as a" Vincent raised his hand.

"Tifa you don't have to tell me. I was just wondering that's all. You have the look of someone who is thinking of someone…" he said.

"Yeah… maybe you're right." I answered distantly. But I wasn't thinking of him, I couldn't help believing. _I was thinking about you, Vincent_.

Any chanced I had with him seemed to evaporate before my eyes. As far as he was concerned, I was with someone else. I wanted to cry out to him, tell him that he – Tom –doesn't matter to me anymore. But I guess that wasn't entirely true. I was just a person who felt terrible for seeing someone let down, even if they wouldn't let it show as much as they think.

He ran a hand over his face.

"Maybe he's worrying about you… you didn't leave a note did you?"

He joined me in my seat in the branches, yet I did not answer. My mind was in overdrive. Vincent, if I was correct, seemed agitated now that I had told him about Tom. Could it be that he felt for me, too?

"Tifa, is something still wrong?" he leant forwards, his chin resting on his folded arms. I swallowed as my eyes met his for the first time, really that day.

I jumped out of the branches, unable to take it anymore. If I didn't look away, get away from him, I might burst.

"Where are you going?" Vincent called, not moving from the tree.

"We should be going, right? To an inn or something?" I urged, my hand on my hip. He slipped out of his place in the branches and came over to me, shaking his head.

"It would be unwise to stay at Inn's. We would be too easily recognised." He told me. "We can sleep out in the open for now."

"You're not kidding are you?" I sighed, taking up my seat in the blossom tree yet again.

He took his gun from the holster, and slid the magazine out, inspecting it carefully. I exhaled; frustrated with the way he did not look me in the eye. I was sure something had changed.

"Are you ok with that?" he asked me after a while, shoving in the magazine with a little more force than was necessary.

"Of course." I replied stiffly.

"Tifa…" he began, his hands dropping to rest on his knees.

"No really, it's ok, I'm just being awkward." I sighed, swinging my legs from the branches.. He looked up, blowing his hair out of his eyes impatiently. "Sorry for being such a pain in the ass. I know you're doing your best, and you're doing what's best for me. And I appreciate that."

"That's alright." He concluded gracefully.

"I know I'll be safe with you around. Like when I got a feeling that I could trust Annie." Then I added after a pause; "And when I knew I should go with you the moment you stepped through my door two nights ago."

"What sort of feeling, Tifa?" he looked across at me. He had stopped checking his gun and had put it away. He now had nothing to divert his attention with, and was gazing into my eyes, although I noticed it wasn't with the boldness he used to have.

"That I was safe, wherever I went, as long as you were with me." I answered honestly. I did truly feel that way. I felt indignant at his expression that plainly said 'I don't believe you.' "All right Vincent, I won't say anymore, but I did mean it, I swear." I shrugged off handedly, and gazed past him, to the deepening sunset behind the tree.

The floss pink was now at the farthest reaches of the sky; at the fringe of the mountains it was almost vermilion, fading out to passion pink, and eventually dusky rose. Beautiful.

The sky was clear, so I would be able to see the stars.

"Here." He handed me his jacket again. I took it and wrapped it around my shoulders, and leant against the tree trunk, the grass tickling my ankles. The blossom tree would be my roof tonight.

He continued; "I'm not going to sleep tonight, so don't worry. You'll be safely under my watch." He was trying to make me feel protected.

It took less than an hour for the light to fade from the sky, changing from purple to blue, to darkest asphalt. The moon was obscured, so only the stars gave their light.

Although Vincent was my watcher, I felt that the light that had been shed on us, and the warmth in which we dwelt was being obscured by shadows. Haunting ones that would take time to withdraw back to the darkness, allowing us to bathe in the light of an existence once more: light that would thaw away the frost of the nights.

_Nightmarescape diaries IV_

_Exert from Vincent's Diary Entry 7_

_I fear that if I were to sleep tonight, the resident spectres of my nightmares would haunt me once more. I can feel it… they are taunting me in my state of mind right now, waiting for me to fall into the folds of sleep. But it will not happen. I will not fall to them. I can't face them, not again._

_Somehow, I know the lady in white will not be there to save me._

_Shrink, I think I'm becoming aware, now. _

_You once said we cannot tell if we are going to dream or not: well you were wrong about me; I knew that whenever I fell asleep they'd been waiting for me, waiting to haunt me once more. But since I've been seeing this angelic spectre, it's sort of made my senses more acute. I can tell if my daemons are feeling particularly vengeful towards me._

_Next I fall into sleep, they'll terrorise me once more. I'm not really looking forward to it._

_I don't know what I did to deserve an angel, but… I sincerely hope she will feel mercy for me once more, and grace my dreams with her presence. _

_These daemons are shadows in front of the sun, cutting me off from all light and warmth. I shiver in their silhouettes, waiting for the day to come when I will see the sun yet again._

_This day is a cold one. I dread the next nightmare. For there will be no light through the darkness, this time._

_May Tifa sleep in peace, for at least, then, one of us can._

_. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ._

When I woke up, it was still dark. Silence lay thick on the air; not a breath of wind, not a single call from the birds. It was just before dawn. I pushed myself upright, the dew of the grass dampening my hands, but not my spirits. I would be able to watch the sunrise.

It was so silent, I thought maybe Vincent had fallen asleep on his watch; I didn't mind. He was only human after all, and I was safe, so he had not failed me, like he was so afraid of doing.

I stumbled upright, using a branch for aid. I was a little disorientated. I waited a moment, allowing my eyes to adjust to the darkness pressing in on me. It gave me the feeling I was doing something wrong, even though I was well within any limits of rationality.

"Tifa."

Vincent's voice called out of the darkness. I couldn't place him, even though I knew he was close by. He sounded scared.

"Are you alright?" I answered back, my voice bordering on a whisper. Stupid, I thought, as the only thing I could disturb would be the grass as I moved.

"I… had a dream…" His voice replied shamefully.

"You mean a nightmare?" I quizzed, already knowing the answer.

From somewhere nearby, there was a quick scratching sound, then a match burst into light, illuminating Vincent's frightened features. The flame cast certain hollows of his face into deeper shadow. He looked like he'd seen death, which, I rationalised in my mind, he may well have done.

I made my way carefully to where he was hunched over, sat on the other side of the tree to where I had been sleeping moments before. I sat next to him, fighting the urge to put my arm around his shoulders to comfort him.

"I'm sorry I let you down…" He shook his head bitterly. He seemed to be shivering.

Feeling that his need was greater than mine, I shrugged off his coat and tossed it over his shoulders. I allowed my hand to remain on his arm, hugged tightly around his knees.

"You didn't, Vincent, it's alright!" I reasoned, squeezing his arm softly. I realised how scared he truly was when his hand grasped mine tightly.

"But it's not… what if something would have happened?" His eyes were wide and frantic in the light of the dying match he held shakily in his fingers.

"Like what?" I was feeling curious. Something particularly horrifying must have happened in his dream to make him be in such a state. He shook his head.

It was in the last few seconds in which the flame from the match struggled to burn, that I saw the damp on the skin of his face, and the burning fright in his eyes. I felt my heart wrench.

He choked on his words, and then shook his head again. He began fumbling with the box of matches. After successfully lighting one, he passed it into my steady fingers, and then forced a small, leather-bound black book into my hand. I looked at it with wonder.

"Vincent I can't read this it's yours." I tried to give it back. He pushed it towards me again, opening it for me on what appeared to be one of the most recent entries in his diary.

His handwriting was shaky and smudged.

What I read there made a chill creep through my veins that was not at all related to cool morning in which I breathed.

_Nightmarescape diaries V_

_Exert from Vincent's Diary Entry 8_

_I fell asleep… I couldn't win them, couldn't fight them. I'm losing control slowly, slipping deeper and deeper into the chasm, and the rope out is getting shorter. I can't get out anymore. Can't escape._

_Angry fingers tearing at flesh, a woman's flesh. The Angel without all of her light and glory lay dead and torn before me. Skin red and mutilated. As it was too light to see her, now it is too dark. My angel has fallen. There is no more salvation. _

_I did it. I tore her skin from her bones. I killed her, bled her dry and watched her perish. My daemons knew that she was my light. Now they have taken her away. No more shadows. Just dark. _

_I can't hide from them anymore. They've wormed their way into my veins, my mind, and my soul. They know what makes me work. Sooner or later, they'll be able to shut me down for good._

_Shrink, this isn't just psychological. I can still feel her blood on my hands, still taste it on my tongue. I can still see her mutilated graceful body lying in her own blood on the floor. Still see it… _

_I can't see any way out of this. There is darkness everywhere I go, and I cannot see where I am walking. I stumble and fall repeatedly. It's only a matter of time when the day will come that I cannot get back up. I suppose that even in death they will follow me. Then I'll be at their level. Sleep and wakefulness will no longer be there to part us. It's not going to end, I can tell from here._

_There has to be some way out of this place: this place of pain, death, and destruction. No way did I bargain life to be like this._

_Help me._

_Tifa._

_. . . . . . . . . . . . . . _

_(Striking the match)_

The last few lines of his entry were scrawled desperately along the bottom of the page, my name; a plea for help.

I didn't know what I could possibly do to help a man who was being tortured by his own nightmares. I had seen through a window into what made Vincent, and I don't think I liked the view. He was broken; beyond physical help.

I couldn't think of any way that I could assist him, so I did what any friend would do for another.

I would offer him my shoulder. He looked at me, confused, as I spread my arms for him. Smiling a little at his naivety, I tugged him closer, and then took him into my arms. His body was rigid for a moment, and then was still. After a moment, in which I bit my lip, hoping I had done the right thing, his arms hesitantly came to enfold me. I released a breath I didn't know I was holding.

A small ray of sunlight burst out over the hills, casting all that had been in total oblivion, into a sudden, watery existence. Like striking a match, suddenly revealing what you've been scrambling around in the dark for, for so long. Suddenly I realised that the birds were singing: chirping happily in the branches above our heads, darting across the valley in the sunlight. It was then I realised that they had been calling out their morning song for a while; I had been too busy reading to notice them.

"Tifa…" he began. It seemed he couldn't think of what to say, as his next words were lost like the darkness was being lost to the light.

"It's alright Vincent. It's all gone away for now. Let's just concentrate on the present; we can worry about the future later." I whispered consolingly to him, rubbing his back gently. I felt his nod.

"I… I think I'm beginning to understand something…" He said. His tone was optimistic, as he pulled out of my arms and sat back against the trunk of the blossom tree.

"What about?" I inquired.

"The dreams… the woman I've been seeing. I think it was Lucrecia… the daemons are warning me that I could lose my mind if I keep dwelling on the past…" He shook his head.

I couldn't find words enough to answer him. I had learned more about Vincent over the two days or so that I had been with him, that the weeks we were in each other's company with AVALANCHE, and the year in which separated then and now.

I felt a sort of privilege to have this level of trust from him; he was a hard person to know, and an even harder person to gain faith and respect from. I felt that I had done something to earn it, but my mind could not summon any justifiable reasons at that moment in time.

"You should at least try to push her from your mind. But then who will save you from your nightmares- was she not the angelic figure you have been seeing?"

"Annie told you about her?" he asked me, a little hint of shame in his tone.

"Yes, she did…" I looked at my hands that rested in my lap. "I don't think you have to let her go… You don't have to be ashamed of your feelings, Vincent. I think you're daemons are just taunting you because they know that it is something that affects you deep down inside. They do not like being pushed aside. Maybe something you once had with Lucrecia was strong enough to help you sleep at night…" I suggested. He laughed bitterly again.

"What happened to her is the whole reason I'm _having_ these nightmares, Tifa. I'm not ashamed, I'm just afraid that it will happen again. I can't forget about her, I can't sleep so long as she haunts me," He gripped his hair in his hands.

That's when I made the comparison. He was so hard on himself for not being able to protect her in the past. He was hard on himself for not being able to protect me, at some times. He felt he was atoning somehow, by making sure I was safe, by ensuring that I would not blame him for my misfortune. Though he seemed so ready to shoulder the blame for things that were not necessarily his to bear.

"Maybe it's not her that has to forgive you. It's _you_." I told him, looking up from my hands to the mountains before us.

The gold was brimming over the tops, like liquid gold. The midnight blue was washing out to a soft duck egg blue at the tips, like pouring water over black ink. The two colours swirled around each other, fighting for dominance. The water was eventually winning.

"What hope do I have of forgiving myself?" He pleaded, defeat thick in his tone.

"Vincent… Lucrecia would not have wanted this for you… but you won't allow yourself to simply let it go." I told him, running my hand idly over the grass.

"How can I let go?" he scoffed, shaking his head bitterly.

"Find something to deflect your attentions." I hinted.

"You mean find someone else?" He asked, a little shocked. I shrugged.

"Depends on how much you want to stop having nightmares, doesn't it? If you really feel that she was your light, then you need to find a new light; to illuminate the shadows she left behind…" I sighed, hugging myself tightly.

"Maybe… I'll just see how things go getting you to safety. Then I can worry about it," he shrugged. He was returning to his normal, closed-up self.

_I'm just afraid that it will happen again._ He doesn't want to move on, I thought. He likes to be able to hate himself, have someone to blame for his troubles.

"What about the psychiatrist who told you to keep the diary? What do they have to say about it all?" I inquired. It didn't seem to be something he would do of his own initiative- the diary.

"They think it's a problem that can be solved by using textbook methods. I doubt it sincerely that they even know what it's like to have nightmares like this…" He shrugged and got to his feet, brushing himself down. I mimicked him, and went to stand by his side, as he appeared to survey the sunrise.

"We are leaving," he told me blankly. "Our road will pass by a spring where you can wash if you do so wish."

With that he set off down the hill.

I waited a few moments just to watch him go. Once awake, he didn't carry a shadow with him about his nightmares. Whether that was bravery, or just plain ignorance, I didn't know.

However, there was something about seeing him in that weakened state that touched me somewhere inside. I was filled with a desire to help. I wanted to know what was wrong, and see it through, so that he could be returned to a state of normality, where he did not have to sit up at night, dreading going to sleep. Like a child who fears the monster under his bed will get him as soon as he closes his eyes.

Today was a little like striking a match. Everything was suddenly cast into a bright, burning existence, and for once I could see into Vincent like I had never done before. But the moment was short lived, and when the match fizzled out, I was cast into the shadows once more.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Chapter 3 revised!


	4. Chapter 4 Revised

Chapter 4 Revised. Sorry if everything is bold (again.)

_. . . . . . . . . . . . . . ._

_Pieces of the puzzle_

By now, the sun had risen completely over the mountains, and the plains we were crossing were bathed in their day's glory.

Vincent trudged ahead of me, keeping his distance. I felt a little isolated from him now; perhaps he regretted opening up to me like he did. I supposed that he thought I would judge him upon it. But that's not entirely true. I still saw him as he was; a difficult person to know, but once you've gotten an insight into his character, he's not so hard to predict.

I stared down at the grass beneath my feet, listened to it crunching with my every step. The occasional flower dotted the vast expanse of green, and trees sparsely populated the plains, here and there.

I could take the silence no longer. I'd been walking in his wake for at least an hour, and it was killing me.

"Vincent, wait!" I called after him, jogging to catch up. He stopped to allow me to reach him. "Why are you going so fast?" I panted. I was shorter than him, and so had to walk quickly to keep up with his strides.

"Sorry I didn't realise." He sighed, not meeting my gaze.

"Yes you do realise." I stated, my arms folded. "You've been avoiding me ever since you fully returned to your normal self this morning." He seemed a little startled by my challenge, but recovered quickly.

"Tifa, it's not easy for me to be so honest with someone like-" He paused, noticing his mistake.

"With someone like _me_?" I completed. He lowered his head slightly. "For crying out loud Vincent, I'm not going to go and tell everyone!" I threw my hands up in agitation.

"It's not about that Tifa…" He looked uncomfortable.

"Then what is it then?" I put all of my weight on one leg, and rested my hands on my hips. He looked away from me quickly.

"I'm just not comfortable with sharing things like that with you, yet." He told me, still not looking at me.

"Why can't you look at me? Am I that much of a mess?" I joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

I was surprised then by the way he looked at me. In his eyes was a mixture of defeat and sorrow, and if I could dare to believe it, longing. I dropped my hands to my sides and stood straight. I was missing something here, and I think it was crucial, like the missing piece to a puzzle. I was slowly adding to it, piece by piece, but it was a slow process.

_I'm just afraid that it will happen again. _

"No, Tifa… it's just you remind me of someone… that's all…" He turned away from me. I realised that if I stopped looking for the missing piece, then I'd never be able to find it.

"That's all? I'm sorry but I think there is a little bit more to it than that." I pressed, remaining where I was. He could walk away, but he'd have to come back sooner or later, like dealing with a problem. Vincent had walked away all of his life. It was about time he faced what he was afraid of.

"Tifa I don't want to talk about it."

"You don't want to or you can't?" I argued. "You can't talk about it to me, because you don't trust me, because you're afraid to revisit the past, because you can't believe that I actually care about-"

"Tifa!" his outburst surprised both of us, then. His eyes were wide and angry, but I knew that letting him walk away then would have closed the door for good; The door leading to the missing piece. The door I _didn't_ have a key to.

"What is it, Vincent?" I called after him, as he started to walk away. "Just tell me; I think I have a right to know why you cannot look at me anymore." My voice was shaking and my cheeks were flushed with my anger. I felt a sting in the corners of my eyes, but I fought back the tears. I had to be strong, for then at least one of us was.

He turned around to face me. His features were sad and showed how he was overwhelmed by all of this. I think I could safely say that he had never had to confront his fears like this before.

"I can't… I still don't know myself." That was the most honest thing he could have replied with. I couldn't have said anything if I would have wanted to. Then he said: "You remind me of Lucrecia, lately." He admitted. And although he said no more, I pictured him saying the words he had said to me on the hill. _I'm just afraid that it will happen again._

His shoulders sank a little, and then he turned and walked on. I knew he wouldn't say any more. But I was triumphant in that I had found a missing piece- a piece that had the most crucial detail of all.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

We walked together side by side. There was silence between us, as well as something else: an understanding. I'd never come this far before with Vincent, and I felt a sense of achievement somehow. With it came a desire to know more, and an ocean of questions I wanted to ask.

But I knew that with Vincent, it was a slow process; like a glacier. Slow, but still making the slightest advancement day, by day, by day. In Vincent's terms, since we'd been in each other's company for three or so days now, we'd moved mountains out of our way.

It was as the storm clouds came rolling in over our heads, and the heavens opened upon us, that I realised something.

Vincent was the door I had been trying to open in my dreams. As odd as it sounded, it made perfect sense. A stupidly blatant metaphor, yet I knew dreams had their own strange way of portraying things. Try as I might, I couldn't open that damn door- and try as I might, I couldn't get Vincent to open up to me. Except, a few times, I was sure I'd seen light glowing from around the edges- a preview of what was inside awaiting me.

_I'm just afraid that it will happen again._

I laughed at the irony of the situation; the entire journey, when we had been under shelter, it had not rained. Yet when we were out in the open, it turned to monsoon conditions.

We began to run towards the forest where we were headed, ours boots splashing in the newly forming mud. My hair was sticking to my wet skin, and raindrops clung to my eyelashes. Eventually we reached the shelter of the tree's canopy, grinding to a halt in the dry.

Our breathing came fast and hitched, as we stood panting. When our eyes met we both laughed at each other, Vincent's face relaxing into an easy expression that knocked him back about five years in age. Soaked to the skin, and spattered with mud. I rang the water out of my hair, and did my best to brush off the surface water.

It felt calming- standing underneath the canopy while the rain pattered on the leaves. What with the impending rain clouds, it had darkened under the roof of the trees; it felt pleasant just watching the rain fall not a few inches before me outside.

I turned to face him, to find he was a lot closer than I'd first realised; I was staring right at the buttons on his shirt. I could see the individual stitches that held them fast to the fabric. I lifted my eyes, blinking the raindrops from my eyelashes in question. His eyes were bright in the dim forest luminance.

"Tifa…" he began, looking at the leaf-littered soil before raising his eyes again to gaze steadily into mine. "I want to thank you. For your help…"

I didn't answer, a brief twitch of my brows skyward encouraging him on.

"Nobody has ever been there to see me like that… I am very sorry to have put you through that…" He looked away, ashamed. I raised a tentative hand and turned his face to mine. His skin was cool with rainwater.

"Don't feel you have to apologise about it. I was glad to be able to help, even if I don't know exactly how…" I smiled softly. I saw him swallow, and I could sense his slight aggravation.

I was breaking a rule; don't touch him. But I didn't care. So many rules had been broken just to get here, so I wasn't about to pay attention to them anymore. Vincent needed to experience change; had to break away, had to realise that he couldn't go on living like he was forever.

It would mean the end for him, and I knew that. I knew how much his past was tearing him apart. He needed to make new memories, so that his past would gradually dissipate from darkness into light.

_I'm just afraid that it will happen again._ We all are, Vincent…

I suddenly realised; I had the key to open Vincent.

His eyes were burning into me, and I felt myself coming undone. One redeeming quality in a man was his eyes, at least for me anyway. His were nothing like I had ever seen before. They seemed to burn me from the inside out in cleansing flame.

His brow creased, though he did nothing to remove my hand from his cheek, as I struggled to explain myself. "I realise I must have done something, but… as to what that is… I have no idea." I smiled dimly. The way he was looking at me was returning to how it had been on the hill; eyes filled with longing and deep sorrow.

"You are trying to help me to see a way out of…" he failed to articulate his feelings. "This hell I'm in…" I was close enough to see the individual raindrops in his gunmetal coloured hair. I was close enough to hear him breathing, feel it.

"A way out?" I repeated, not sure what he was trying to tell me.

I let my hand fall from his face, but he took it before it reached my side. My eyes widened in surprise. The rain fell from my eyelashes like tears, carving their way down the contours of my cheeks.

"I just need to find a way to forgive myself, like you said; find a reason to go on." His gaze increased intensity. I felt my knees threaten to buckle. His arm was supporting me now.

"A reason?" I mumbled, lowering my head slightly.

"Yes, a reason. To change what I once was… if I go on the way I am now, it might kill me one day." He breathed, his lips close to my ear. I shivered.

Was Vincent trying to tell me that he felt what I was feeling? He felt the attraction? Attraction to Vincent was dangerous, I knew, but at least he was coming close to admitting it. I raised my head to let my eyes convene with his. The pupils contracted in mild surprise. Then they softened.

"You remind so much of a woman I once knew…" he told her, then added in almost a whisper, his lips close to my ear. "A woman I once loved."

"Vincent?" I was questioning him.

He was being open and honest, something that I wouldn't have expected from him. He was never one to discuss his past, even brush on the surface. But today, we had plunged in without a breath, only to emerge gasping at the surface.

"Tifa… I… I think that _you_ are the light I have been seeing in my dreams…" He admitted, not locking gazes with me.

"And I think you were the door in mine." I answered. His head came up. We were close now. My hand was loosely gripping the damp fabric of his shirt, stopping me from falling. "And I think… I know what I needed this whole time." I whispered.

His soft, inquisitive gaze traced my face, as if searching for answers, and then came to settle on my eyes again. I smiled softly, reaching up to touch tentative fingertips to his face. After receiving no resistance, I leaned upwards, as he leaned down slightly, and allowed our lips to meet.

I could taste the rain on his lips. I could smell in on his skin. I could hear it falling around us. I could feel it under my hand. Vincent held me closer, my lips parting slightly to allow him to deepen the kiss.

We bolted apart at the sound of thunder. It was as if we had been caught doing something we were not supposed to. Then I realised, we _were_ doing something we weren't supposed to. I sensed the fear from him. _I'm just afraid that it will happen again. _Don't fear it Vincent. Don't.

"I'm sorry…" He mumbled, letting me go, and turning away from me, walking out into the rain.

"Vincent wait!" I called after him, running out into the downpour, my skin tingling from the contact. He turned to look at me, his hair clinging to his face, seeming like his tears were falling thick and fast.

"Tifa, you're with another man, I can't do this." He looked away, his fists clenched. Then, he turned and strode off in the opposite direction.

"I don't care about him!" I screamed, with my eyes screwed shut. I sank to my knees in the pouring rain, willing it to wash me away.

I'd tried so hard to forget the last man that I had loved; he had not loved me because of someone else. Now I seemed to be in some sort of parallel universe. The man I wanted thought _I_ loved someone else.

I knew he'd stopped at my words, my helpless plea to try to get him to realise that nothing mattered anymore. _He_ didn't matter to me anymore.

"I want you, Vincent…" I said in an undertone, thinking only the water falling before me could hear, wishing I had the strength to tell him to his face, then our eyes would meet, and our skin would touch and then we'd brush mouths…

I felt a strong pair of arms lift me to my feet, and I found myself sobbing into his shirt. He forced me to look at him.

"What did you say?" He asked me sternly, his thumb under my chin. I let out a stifled sob tried to look away. He gently shook me. "Tifa what did you say?" He repeated, more urgently.

I managed to choke out, "I want you…"

We stared at each other for a long time. The rain continued to fall around us, but time seemed to slow. My head was reeling, and my breath had caught in my throat. I dared not open my eyes. I couldn't look at him. I was frozen in his grasp, not speaking.

"Tifa?" His voice went through me, jarring my nerves. I dared not look at him. I unscrewed my eyes, but allowed them to remain closed, dim light filtering in through my lids.

I could taste rain on my lips, a trace of Vincent's kiss. Water was pouring down my body, and dripping from my frozen fingertips- a remnant of his touch. I could feel his hands on my skin. I willed myself to be drained away.

"Tifa, look at me…" He said desperately.

I tore my eyes open, my pupils tracing his face before settling agitatedly on his face. His hands let go of my shoulders and came up to cup my cheek. His thumbs brushed my lips softly. I felt like I was in a dream. I was teetering on the edge of falling over, holding onto his coat tightly with my hands.

"You mean that?" He asked, his tone soft, yet demanding. I managed a rigid nod. He looked at me then in a way he'd never looked at me before.

His eyes were soft, and filled with an emotion I'd guess to have been compassion. He brushed away my tears with his thumbs and then pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly.

After a moment he pulled back to rest his forehead on mine. It all felt surreal, as if something else were waiting to happen, to ruin this moment I had waited for, longed for.

The air was thick with static. Thunder crashed again.

Why was it hurting? Burning, bleeding…

I slipped to the ground, the rain pouring forgivingly down on to my heated skin, eyes to the heavens. It was burning me, like liquid flame.

I grasped at the concept that the key was to make him see what he could have.

Then I fell into the darkness I had been trying so hard to save him from.

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . **

**Hope this was better, god it sounds so crap when you look back 4 years on.**


	5. Chapter 5 Revised

Right chapter 5 Revised, which is amazing- I've reduced the size of this story drastically! It's because of all the shorted chapters I did of the diary entries. If you're new to this story, stop reading if it doesn't say revised at the top of the chapter. If the numbers seem a little odd, it's because I's condensing it!

Jessicaj

_. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . _

_At The Base_

_Nightmarescape diaries VI_

_Exert from Vincent's Diary Entry 9_

_Oh god, what have I done? _

_Tifa was bleeding in my arms. Just like in my nightmares, and I could do nothing. I had not been able to find the shooter. I was too busy calling her name, calling her back to me. _

_A member of ASPS got to us soon after. A helicopter took us the HQ in Junon. I'm now in my room, waiting for them to bring her out of surgery. A long distance bullet… fired from a high-powered rifle. _

_They said she might not pull through. She'd lost her blood twice over on the way. Thank god they had the initiative to bring some for a transfusion, or she would have bled to death in my arms, right there in the helicopter._

_The doctors gave me some sleeping pills. I'd rather face my daemons than the pain of losing her. It hurts too deeply. Even going to _them_ will be an escape._

_I only hope when I come back, she'll be there._

_Oh god, please. Spare her, if not for me, then for her._

_. . . . . . . . . . . . . . _

I couldn't see anything, but I could hear voices. At first, it seemed as though they were far away, fuzzy like bad reception on a radio. Then they faded out totally. I knew no more.

Then when I next awoke, I could feel a strange jerking motion beneath me, as if the ground were moving. I remember feeling a pain so intense in my abdomen, I was almost sick. But I hadn't eaten much to regurgitate anyway.

I felt a slight prick in my arm. The pain was intensifying, and I felt a warm wetness on my skin.

I could hear voices again. Close by this time. A woman's voice, then a man answering. I didn't recognise them. Then I heard my own name being called.

"_Tifa?"_ It was of a dreamlike quality. I wasn't sure if it was real or not. When I opened my eyes, I could see my own bedroom, in my old house in Nibelheim. I _was_ dreaming. I felt tears spring to my eyes when I knew whom I would see.

Not of my own accord, my eyes opened again. I could see my father before me, his brows creased, his eyes blood shot from lack of sleep.

"_Hey princess…" _his voice was clear and it made my stomach turn sick with want. I missed him so much.

My dream self was smiling weakly, although I knew what she, I, was going to hear.

"_Where's mom?"_ I heard my younger self ask. I could feel the pain I felt all those years ago with the same acuteness.

"_She didn't make it sweetie… Your mom's gone away now, and she's not coming home."_ He answered. I could feel his rough hand hold mine. I wanted to hold onto it forever, but I knew it was not so.

"_She's dead?"_ those words held a frightening reality to them. You never want to hear the answer, but you have to know for sure. You have to hear it for yourself.

"_Yes, baby…" _his other hand touched my forehead softly. _"Your mom is dead."_ His eyes filled up, but he brushed his tears away impatiently. _"But she is still here with you. You just can't see her."_

"_Don't you ever leave me Papa…" _I spluttered, gripping his large hand in mine. His leaned in and kissed my forehead roughly.

"_No Princess. I'll never leave you, I promise."_

The pain of his broken promise hit me again, as though it had just happened, eight years ago. The pain was still fresh inside of my heart.

And I would never forget.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

"Tifa?" a familiar voice asked. It was a man's voice. I struggled with reality, a little confused whether I was dreaming or not.

"Papa?" I called out softly, a little confused, my hand outstretched.

"No, Tifa…" The voice answered. "Close enough." a rough callused hand took hold of mine, and squeezed it.

"Cid?" I coughed. I couldn't see. The lights were a little blinding.

"Hang in there, I'll jes turn these off fer ya." He left my side momentarily, before returning, taking my hand once more. "Yeah, it's me." He answered, a grin evident in his voice.

In the new gloom, my eyes adjusted quickly. I looked to the side to see my favourite cranky pilot, stood by the side of the bed I was currently in. I felt an overpowering surge of joy and tried to sit up. A pain forced me back down again in my lower back and abdomen.

"Whoa! Don' try to move, Tifa, you took a bad knock back there!" He patted my shoulder awkwardly.

"What happened to me?" I mumbled, my arm over my face. The pain was blinding me.

"You got shot. Vincent didn' see the sniper…" He grunted, slumping into a chair by the side of the bed. I gasped and tried to sit up again.

"Vincent!" I choked, falling back against my raised pillows with a gasp of pain. "Is he alright?" I ignored Cid's requests about my hurt.

"He's alrigh'." Cid sighed, folding his arms with a scowl. "He's a bi' shocked. Doctor put him to sleep with some pills 'cause he was that agitated. Kept blamin' 'imself fer it and demanding to see ya."

"To sleep? I hope he's ok…" I sighed. I felt sick with worry about him; if he chose sleep over wakefulness, he must be holding himself responsible to the point of good enough suicide.

"It's you ye should be worryin' 'bout!" Cid cried, jerking forwards in his seat. "Bullet went clean through ye! Narrowly missed 'im though. Shoulda hit him as far's I'm concerned. Mighta knocked some sense inta him." He mumbled in complaint.

I felt angry towards Cid for regarding Vincent like that. He was a seriously misunderstood person. I voiced this to Cid, who scoffed in reply.

"Misunderstood, Tifa? Na, he just likes to think so… I reckon he isn't as mysterious as he makes out ta be. He's just stubborn…" Cid shook his head, and mumbled some obscenities under his breath.

I turned my head away. Cid was right. Vincent _was_ stubborn. All you had to do was break him down to see what he was really like. And I had done just that, I thought, until…

"Cid how long have I been asleep for?" I asked suddenly. He leant back in his seat and scrutinised the ceiling in thought.

"Reckon 'bout three days now." He finally said.

"And how long has Vincent been asleep?" I urged.

"24 hours at a push, I'd say…" He scratched his head. "Why? You wanna see 'im do you?" He squinted.

"Yes I do!" I cried in indignation. "I'm guessing he doesn't even know about how I am does he?"

"Well yeah, doctor stopped by to say you were alive, but that's abou' it really." Cid seemed slightly shamed.

"Well don't you think you should have gone to see him?" I scolded. Cid rolled his eyes and stood up.

"Woulda done but I've been sittin' ere by your stinkin' carcass for three days ain't I?" He grumbled, going to leave the room.

"Cid!" I called after him. He spun on his heel in the doorway, giving me a look that plainly said 'what the hell now?' "Thank you. I appreciate it." I softened my tone. I'd always had a soft spot for the grumpy pilot.

He gave an infectious grin and swaggered out of the room, grumbling something that sounded mysteriously like 'women'.

I felt suddenly at home, now that I had Cid with me. I'd come to see him as a grumpy sort of uncle to me; over the time I'd known him.

Whenever he'd phone me up to check on me, it'd always sound to me as if he'd phoned me by mistake. Always avoiding the actual reason for calling. I always walked away from the phone with a smile when he'd called.

Trust Cid.

_Nightmarescape diaries VII_

_Exert from Vincent's Diary Entry 10_

_I've just woken up from my deep sleep. Checked the clock; I slept for 25 hours. Record for me, I think. _

_I dreamt about Tifa bleeding in my arms. But it was different. I wasn't in the blackened nothingness like usual. It was exactly how it was on the day it happened- the rain falling, then the sun breaking through the clouds and she crumpled to the ground…_

_Someone's knocking on my door. I cannot bring myself to answer, in case they tell me that she is dead. I don't think I could handle that. It would kill me for sure. I'll just wait unti-l_

_It was Cid. He just yelled at me to go the hospital wing because Tifa is awake and wanting to see me. _

_Thank you whatever grace has turned her eye to me today. I can live with it if she hates me, as long as she is alive._

_. . . . . . . . . . . . ._

When he first entered the room, I seriously would not have recognised him from the man I had been travelling with 3 days before.

His eyes were sunken, his skin a lot paler than usual. He looked as though he hadn't changed since we had arrived here, his clothing still dirty, and now, rather creased. His face held traces of worry and fatigue, and he seemed to be rather nervous, as he struggled to find something to look at in the room, besides me. Deciding he couldn't avoid me, his eyes warily shifted to my face.

I think he expected something else other than what was there; concern for him.

"Tifa…" He sighed, a little relief coming through, as he walked to the bedside and looked down at me. "How is it?" His eyes travelled to my bandaged side, then back up to my face.

"It's… as good as it could be…" I sighed, my hand coming to rest lightly on the linen that bound me. "But I don't care about that. I want to know about you." His eyes widened, as if taken by surprise.

"Me?" he coughed, startled. I heaved a sigh, and frowned a little.

"Why, what did you think I wanted to see you for?" I pressed, looking away from him. "Sit." I instructed.

He made his way around to the other side of the bed and sank into the seat previously vacated by Cid. He put his head in his hands for a moment, then gathered his wit, he sat back to survey me better.

"I want to know what happened." I demanded, reaching out a hand for him to take. He glanced at my hand, and then up at me in confusion, and after a minute, took it hesitantly.

"We must have been followed…" he ran his fingers over my knuckles softly, as if he wanted to occupy himself to avoid looking at me.

"They must have covered a lot of ground to catch up with us…" I mused, his movements relaxing me.

"Well, we thought so too. A little too fast to believe they found out by accident…" He coughed.

"You are suggesting that Annie…" I cried indignantly. A pain shot down my side.

"It's a possibility, or so they believe." He shot his eyes upwards. "But I personally don't believe so. She could have called on them when we were sleeping in her house that night. I do not believe that it was Annie. Or at least of her own choice…" He muttered angrily.

"You think she could have been interrogated?" I questioned, squeezing his hand for comfort.

"Interrogated would be a light term… 'Tortured' would be more relevant to ShinRa…" He said, his voice full of antagonism.

"I hope she is ok…" I whispered, gazing to the ceiling.

There were no windows in the room I was in. I guessed it was underground. I was in some sort of medical facility, as judging from the quality of treatment I had received, and the general appearance of the room I had been put in. it occurred to me that I was where Vincent had been trying to take me.

"Where am I?" I turned my head to the side to look at him. A small smile managed to force its way to his lips. It looked out of place with his overall appearance.

"You are in the A.S.P.S headquarters medical wing." He said clearly.

"A-s-p-s?" I repeated cynically. He let out a small laugh through his nose. "What does it stand for?"

"Anti-ShinRa Protection Society." He answered. "We are made up of general ShinRa haters; Civilians, workers, Ex-Turks, and we are even lucky enough to have a few insiders at the ShinRa bases."

It seemed to me as if he was glad to change the subject from what had happened three days ago. But I wasn't going to let the door close on that; I had put my foot in the door to cease its closure.

"Who shot me, Vincent?" I asked suddenly. His eyes met mine, and I could sense the rage that he must have felt at that time.

"Some ShinRa… Scum…" He spat, trying to hide his anger. "I didn't see them…" his voice fell to a whisper. He was not looking at me now.

"Vincent?" I asked, a little surprised. I had never heard him truly angry. He raised his head. His eyes were shining with, if I dared to believe it, tears. His hand was gripping mine so tightly now, it was bordering on painful.

"Do you think I blame you?" I leaned to him as best I could, ignoring the stabbing pain I was feeling in my side. He inclined his head.

"It was my fault, Tifa…" He managed to choke.

"No its wasn't!" I told him firmly, putting my other hand on his face. His free hand rested on mine. "I don't blame you in the slightest. If only you could accept that people don't always blame you… at least we are both here, now." I smiled as best I could.

"But I don't see it that way… I see it that I let you down. We would have been here almost a day ago in one piece, if I had of stayed in the trees…" he seemed to grow slightly embarrassed.

"I understand, Vincent. I understand why you walked away, and that's fine. It was a perfectly valid reason."

"But you may not have been shot if I had of stayed." he got stiffly to his feet and paced the room, agitated. I let my hands drop to my side.

"Tom probably reported me missing and ShinRa got word of it, that's all." I reasoned. Then it hit me. "Vincent, do you think Tom could be a spy for ShinRa?"

He stopped in his tracks across the room, thinking.

"I could have Shera check it out. It would make sense. They could have planted him there to keep watch on you." The impact of his words sunk in.

"Shera is here?" I exclaimed, a grin on my face.

"Yes she is a member of the research team. Cid is an engineer, and as for the others… they have their own respective jobs." He smirked.

"They are all involved with A.S.P.S?" I asked, still smiling.

"Yes. Nanaki's Cosmo canyon is another anti ShinRa base, as is Wutai, run by Yuffie of course. And Barret… well he has a sort of… miniature army; The Coral army. There has never been so much ShinRa hatred there than anywhere else, I don't think. We're quite well known." He said with a smile.

"I can't wait to see them all…" I sighed, urging my wound to heal as fast as it could.

"I knew you'd say that." he turned to leave the room, but I called him back.

"Vincent?" He looked back at me. "I still stand by what I said to you." I said, my cheeks heating. He nodded slightly, avoiding my gaze, then walking out of the door, and closing it behind him.

But the door was still unopened, in him.

_Nightmarescape diaries VIII_

_Exert from Vincent's diary Entry 11_

_It's a miracle she even wants to speak to me, after all that I've done, or let happen, yet it was with a smile on her face that she registered me as I walked in. I can't begin to describe how I'm feeling…_

_Somehow, I know there will be no nightmares tonight, or if I can judge myself correctly, nor the next. I can feel them quailing beneath my newfound emotion._

_She said she wanted me._

_Oh god, I want her, but what about everything I supposedly stand for? I'm going against my own rules. But then again, if I laid them, then it is ok for me to break them too._

_Shrink, I bet you'll be reading this and wondering what the hell I'm talking about, but I guess this crappy diary of yours turned out to be a good thing after all. And for that I am thankful. You're not such a waste of time after all shrink. I'll be sure to drop by and let you know how everything went._

_. . . . . . . . . . . . . . ._

On the third day of my stay in the hospital, when I was sat up in my bed reading, there was a knock at my door. Used to visitors by now, I said 'come in!' without a second thought, thinking it would be Cid, or Vincent or likewise.

As I expected, Vincent entered the room. It was the second time I had seen him since the day I had woken up here, and I must say that he looked much better.

His skin was not so wan as it had been, and his eyes were brighter. He looked as though he had benefited from a good meal, a bath and some sleep. His clothes were clean on, and he wore a small smile.

"Good morning." He said, walking to my bedside. He was holding something out to me I hadn't noticed him come in with. When he gave it to me, I smiled; it was a bar of chocolate. "I heard it helps," he added with a shrug. I grinned.

"Thanks you're a life saver!" I said with a laugh. His smile flickered then, but settled back when he realised I meant no reference to the past week.

"No problem…" he settled himself in the seat by my bed. "How is it, now?" He indicated to my cleanly bandaged side.

To be truthful it was not as painful as it had been, and I had managed to walk around a little over the past day, to go to wash and suchlike. But it still gave me a considerable amount of discomfort; enough for the doctor here to order me to rest often.

I told him this, and he smiled.

"That's good… I was worried it might affect you permanently…" He shook his head.

"Doctor Adams said that I'll be able to leave here within a few days if I recover at the rate I have been." I told him proudly, and with relief. "Where will I stay then?"

Doctor Adams was the man who had performed surgery on me when I had arrived here, as the A.S.P.S base. He came to visit at least once a day if his busy schedule allowed it, to check on my progress.

He was a kindly man of around fifty, with white hair, which fell over his eyes; so much he had a habit of combing it back with his hands periodically. His wife, I learned, also worked underground at the base, as a anaesthetist.

"A room has been prepared for you, in the sleeping quarters, so you can move in pretty much straight away." He informed me. I sighed with relief.

"What about my belongings? I left them all in New Kalm…" I groaned, running a hand over my face. I absently began to eat some of the chocolate Vincent had brought for me. He smiled a little before answering.

"Shera and myself went back while you were asleep last night by helicopter. We retrieved most of your things for you." He told me, his expression growing serious.

"I take it that wasn't the sole reason for your travelling, am I correct?" I asked sardonically, swallowing down the chocolate. Already it was beginning to make me feel good.

"Well… yes." He answered reluctantly. "We went to investigate Tom." I sat up a little at this.

"And?" I desperately wanted to know this.

"He wasn't in town, so myself and a couple of A.S.P.S agents raided his residence." He paused to watch me carefully. "What we found there confirmed my suspicions; he was a ShinRa spy, and he had in his possession a great number of rifles…" Vincent's voice contained barely controlled anger.

"You mean…" I cried incredulously.

"Yes. Tom shot you…" He answered quietly, observing my reaction.

"Why? Was he ordered to, or was it because he saw us?" I felt so angry, I didn't care that Vincent's cheeks had flushed slightly at my last comment.

"I don't honestly know. We have several of our best agents out there looking for him right now. And as for Annie, well she is fine, and we've ruled her out as a ShinRa spy."

I felt glad by that piece of news anyway. My thoughts had been with Annie a lot over the past few days; I found it hard to believe that she could possibly be involved with ShinRa, so much that I didn't even want to know how Vincent knew she was not. Not when she had been as kind as she had been to me, when I needed it the most.

Now that I was here at the A.S.P.S HQ, I felt distanced from Vincent. I knew over the course of time, he would find reason to go elsewhere, or some mission or likewise, and avoid my company.

I knew him well enough to know he would find any excuse to avoid me, as I would undoubtedly ask him questions; ones he did not want to answer.

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . **

**Much better now!**


	6. Chapter 6 Revised

So I figured out the bold problem. Sorted. Turns out if I upload the document in bold, it's not bold on the site…. hm. Well anyway, this story is old, and I'd appreciate reviews on it, in its new shiny touched up form! Jessicaj

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_Twisting the handle_

After another four days under observation, Doctor Adams finally gave me permission to leave the hospital wing. Excited, I dressed into a change of clothes that Shera had brought for me, and waited for someone to arrive to escort me to my new quarters.

I was expecting it to be Vincent, but it was Cid who entered the room, wiping his oily hands on his overalls, a grin on his face.

"C'mon sunshine, let's show ya te yer new home!" He said loudly, holding the door open for me to walk through, and then letting it swing shut after he'd took his weight from it.

Following Cid was the only way I could have stayed on track in this place; it seemed to go on for miles. There were endless turns and corners in this huge underground complex, too many for me to remember.

Before we could get there however, we walked into Vincent, who wore an annoyed expression.

"Tifa, you need to come with me. We're needed in a meeting." He informed me, a trace of bitterness in his tone. Cid cursed beside me, his hand in the crook of my elbow for support; although I was able to walk, I still needed a little support and reassurance.

"Ah, be off wi' ya. I'll go back ta fix that dang hunka junk…" with that he stumbled off mumbling to himself under his breath.

Once Cid had gone, I was left alone in the corridor with Vincent, an uneasy feeling settling on us. It was the first time we'd really been alone together in this sense, when I wasn't bound to a hospital bed. It was a moment before he moved, or spoke at all.

"We'd better get going…" He mumbled, stepping to my side where Cid had been, his hand slipping into the crook of my elbow to support me.

His soft, strong grip had a different effect on me than Cid's rough, fatherly hold had. My skin seemed to set on fire for a moment, then go numb in the place where his fingers rested.

His guiding hands lead me down endless twists and turns; eventually leading into what I took to be the main part of the underground complex. We passed more and more people, some carrying stacks of files and other with earpieces in. The strange was, that they all seemed to know me; they all gave me a curt nod in recognition, those who were not too occupied often said good morning, or began a short conversation with me. I recognised no-one.

We came to a stop outside a set of polished wooden doors, with a golden plaque with the words, 'conference room' carved into it. Vincent turned to me and took a breath.

"They're angry with me, for coming to get you, so that's why we're here. They'll want to ask you a few questions about Tom, as well… just so you know…" he sighed, and then turned the elaborate gold handle.

None of what he said made any sense at all. I closed my mouth before I voiced my confusion. He'd made it explicit to me that he had orders to collect me form Kalm. Thinking I'd find out sooner or later, I turned and stepped into the room.

Inside was a large, round, polished table, surrounded by high backed leather chairs. What struck me first was that this was a high profile, and high budget organisation. With a little nudge from Vincent, I stepped inside the room a little further.

The impression I gained from all of the people sat around it was that they were wearing their poker faces, and with the downcast lighting, it only added to this image. If not for the seriousness of the situation, I might have laughed.

"Sit down, Ms Lockheart, Mr Valentine." a familiar voice said.

I almost fainted when I realised who it was.

Cloud sat at the head of the table, cast in shadow, wearing the same navy uniform all of the employees wore. I couldn't believe how much he had changed; his hair was no longer as healthy looking; it hung limp and dull around his face. His eyes, however, seemed to have retained their mako ghostly glow, and shone out through the dim lighting.

"Cloud?" I spluttered, feeling Vincent's grip tighten on my arm. He did his best to guide me to one of the high backed chairs, taking the one next to me.

"Yes, it's me…" He replied stoically, staring at me blankly. I looked to the other men seated around the table; Rude and Reno, both Ex-Turks, several men I did not recognise, and an old man I recognised from Junon that we'd met over a year ago on our journey.

"You're the head of A.S.P.S?" My voice was filled with indignation, mind whirling with questions, not daring to believe it. I felt Vincent's hand rest on mine as it lay on my lap. It reassured me.

"Yes, but that is not what we have come to discuss." He said coldly, his gaze shifting to Vincent. I squeezed his hand. "We are here to discuss why Mr Valentine left HQ without permission to extract you from New Kalm."

I looked to Vincent.

"Is this true?" I received a curt nod in answer.

"You were a key individual in our drawing out of a ShinRa spy we knew to be resident to the area." He said to me, no traces of his old self in his face.

"You mean you were _using_ me?" I felt resentful, but more dominantly, livid.

"In a sense. But if Mr Valentine hadn't of drifted in and removed you before we even had a chance to identify the spy… we could have exposed him. Now all we have is a name and an empty house. In taking you out of Kalm, the spy was able to follow you, resulting in your injuries."

I looked to Vincent, my eyes wide.

"I only did what was right." He said to Cloud, through gritted teeth. "If I hadn't of taken her out of New Kalm, then Tom would have gotten her by now, and she would have been dead."

"But Tom _did_ get her, and she _could_ have been dead, if we hadn't of arrived to clean up the mess." Cloud replied coolly, his hands folded before him.

I could take it no more.

"For god's sake Cloud!" I yelled, standing up from my seat quickly. All the blood rushed to my head but I didn't care. "At least he actually gives a damn about me; how long would you have left me there, alone without thinking, 'hey she might actually be in danger here!" Two heavily set men rose to restrain me, but Cloud waved them back.

"I was doing what I saw fit, Tifa…" He answered, his expression never changing.

"Fit? What _you_ saw fit for _me_? And at what part did I actually get any say in all of this? Why was I not invited to join, along with everyone else? Did I not have a key part in AVALANCHE too?" I felt a little dizzy.

"You were not needed as a part of the organisation." He replied, his eyes narrowing. I could see no trace of the old Cloud in him, the man that I once thought I loved. There was only hate there now.

"Not needed?" I repeated, my head reeling. "Surely it's not a case of not being needed! I want to be part of this too! I hated ShinRa as much as you all did!- still do in fact." I addressed the entire council. Some avoided my gaze, but the man I recognised from junon seemed angry, though not with me.

"I told you we should not have overlooked her." The man from Junon said, shaking his head and folding his arms across his chest. "She is a key part in this alliance, and now it seems we have no hope of her support."

"Can you blame her?" Vincent snarled, looking away from Cloud.

"No. I guess not." Cloud sighed. "She will be unable to take part in any field work until she is fit, and you, Mr Valentine, disobeyed my orders. You are under probation for two months until you learn the value of listening to my instructions. You are both dismissed. And Mr Valentine?" He called after Vincent, who had shoved his chair back and was about to leave the room. He turned in the doorway. "Do not expect to be paid during that time either." He sneered, with some glee. He watched Vincent carefully.

"Fine with me. You might need the money anyway to clean up the mess you made with Tom." He answered, his voice quaking with anger.

Cloud rose from his seat, but Vincent did not wait for a reply. He took me by the hand and near enough dragged me from the room. He wasn't fast enough, however, to be able to escape Cloud's voice carrying out of the room.

"Don't pretend to think I don't know what's going on. Only a fool would do that."

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Vincent was so blinded by his rage that he nearly ran headlong into a secretary carrying a teetering pile of papers. She only just managed to leap out of his way with a yelp. I called back an apology as best I could, as Vincent was pulling me along at a fast pace.

"Vincent, slow down!" I moaned, my side twinging in pain.

All of a sudden he stopped and let out a great sigh. It seemed we had reached our destination anyway, for he opened a door to his left and walked inside, leaving it open for me to follow. I stumbled inside and shut it behind me.

"Tifa…" he sighed, sitting down on a badly made bed that I presumed to be his own. The room was plain and contained no signs of any personalisation; perhaps it was this that gave it away as Vincent's room.

I stepped over a fallen chair and sat next to him on the bed, looking at him intently.

His eyes drifted down to my abdomen.

"Your wound is bleeding…"

Sure enough, I looked down to see the blood seeping slowly through the gauze. I shook my head.

"Forget it, listen" I tried to explain, but he was moving already, retrieving another fresh roll of bandages from a box on his dresser, then damping a cloth with water from a sink in the small en-suit bathroom.

"It needs tending to." He said curtly, standing before me, supplies in his hands.

"I don't care about it!" I yelled, standing up and knocking the roll of bandages from his hands. I had stood too fast, and it was Vincent's arms that stopped me from falling, though the impact jarred my nerves, escalating the pain.

"I'll have to take you back…" he sighed, setting me down on the bed.

"No, please…" I said, tears rolling softly down my face. "I don't want to go back…" I gripped his shirt in my fingers like a child would. His brow was creased as he looked down at me, his arm a comforting presence about my abdomen, regardless of the ache there.

"Then let me change them for you." He reasoned softly, removing his hands from around me and stooping to retrieve the bandages from the floor. I felt ashamed of my behaviour, yet again.

"Vincent, I'm sorry… about the argument we had on the train… I didn't know you'd come of your own choice…" I whispered, pulling him closer to me, for I feared he would not be able to hear me. fury and distress was choking me slowly, and my voice was barely above a murmur.

"It's alright, Tifa. I couldn't have left you there… and I know that none of the others would have, if they'd have known too."

He lifted the fabric of my shirt up, to expose the bandaging beneath. I closed my eyes. His touch was as gentle as the doctors, but I kept thinking, beyond my own control, about what I would be feeling if there was no wound bleeding, and he was lifting my shirt up for another reason.

The blush must have shown in my cheeks, for he asked; "Tifa, are you comfortable with me doing this for you, or would you rather-" I cut him off.

"No." I said it too quickly. I flushed deeper. "I'd rather you did it." I continued, more calm.

He offered me the faintest of smiles, and layer-by-layer, he unwound the bandage from around me. His fingertips grazed the skin of my waist on the uncovering of the last layer, and I did little to suppress the shiver that ran across my body. If he noticed, he didn't show it.

"It's only bleeding a little." He told me, gently dabbing a damp cloth on the surface wound. It stung only a little. "I'm sorry for letting this happen."

"Don't blame yourself. I don't blame you now, I never have, and I never will. Now change the bandage and shut up." I told him, a playful tone in my voice. He smiled vaguely at me, before reaching for the clean bandage.

"I'm going to have to ask you to prop yourself up onto your elbows." He instructed.

I did as he asked, so that he could reach around me to re-wrap my bandage. When I did so, I could see the look of concentration on his face as he worked to unravel the cloth carefully, his hair falling over his eyes. In the dim light, I could just make out the dim red gleam of his irises. Before I knew it, they had fixed upon me with an iron grip.

"Sorry," he murmured apologetically, as he leant closer, his arms reaching around my waist. Again, the shivers travelled along my skin in such a way, that I could have sworn a small gasp passed my lips. Biting my lip, I looked at him as openly as I dared. His eyes were averted, his cheeks flushed. Even in the dim lighting I could make out his hands shaking.

When the length of the bandage expired, he had to lean around me to tuck it in, as the end would not reach past the midline of my spine. When it was done, he leant back. His face was close, though by pure accident; I had been gazing over my shoulder to concentrate on the wake of his fingers, and _not_, decidedly, how looking into his face made me feel.

"Tifa…" He sighed, shaking his head. "I've put you through an awful lot of trouble a lately. I hope you know I never meant to get you hurt. I only wanted you to be safe…."

"All this time I was lead to believe you were sent to rescue me against your will, and for money." I took a breath. "But now I know otherwise. Why didn't you tell me you'd come to get me of your own will, Vincent?"

I figured that from the look on his face, this was one of those questions that he would have to try his hardest to answer; A question that would add to the puzzle that I had been trying to solve since he arrived at my door, almost two weeks before.

"I did not want to give you the impression that my motives were of a sentiment that… at the time did not exist." He answered, his eyes lifting resolutely to meet mine. They burned crimson.

"…At the time?" my heart skipped a beat. Was he telling me that he felt for me?

"Now, things are… different. Are they not?" he looked almost worried, as though he had said the wrong thing. My face relaxed into a smile. "It was not the right time for you to find out. At least now you know, and then I did not have to argue to get the truth across to you."

He smirked. I shoved him playfully. We both laughed, then it fell silent.

"You've changed so much, Vincent…" I whispered, daring to raise my hand, and let my finger tips brush the hair from his face. It only fell back into place afterwards, though. "There was a time I used to be wary of you, even afraid…"

His eyes were wide, pupils dilated in the dim lighting of his room. I couldn't even imagine what my reaction would have been if someone would have told me, weeks ago, that in the near future I would be in the place that I was now. I think then I would have laughed.

But there was nothing laughable about it now.

"And now?" His voice broke the settling silence, although it was soft and gentle. I smiled with affection.

Nothing could explain the way I was feeling, then; I felt contented with the way things were, at least between Vincent and I, anyway. I felt that as long as I had him, I had no need to fear anything.

Although my life had been risked several times along the way, I trusted him like no other; despite the fact I hardly knew him before he came to me in new Kalm, I felt like I'd known him well all my life. A hard person to know, but then again, not so difficult once you'd seen into his head.

"Now?" I repeated, smiling a little. "It couldn't be more different."

I shifted myself on my elbows; there was a growing discomfort in my joints. I sat up as best I could, but the pain was too great. Vincent's arms supported me, setting me upright, and in a more comfortable position against his pillows.

"Would you like to elaborate on that, Tifa?" He frowned a little. His face was level with mine now.

"Well there isn't much to say… only that you make me feel safe whenever you're around, and that… I trust you."

"Trust…" he repeated the word, as though he had never heard it in his life before. I supposed that he expected people not to trust him, seeing as he wasn't really the most open person at the best of times. I, however, knew better.

"Yes, Vincent. With my life."

"And mine with you, Tifa."

He looked down momentarily, and then swallowed. He was going to admit something of his own accord. I had to admit; it made me well up with anticipation.

"I feel that nobody in this world understands me better than you. You know what it's like to love and lose someone… You know what it's like to suffer… but you have something that I will never have, and for that I envy you." He said, taking my hand in his, as if he couldn't find anything to occupy himself with.

"Envy me?" I was curious, no doubt.

"You have the power to overcome. That is something I can never understand… unless…" he blushed a little deeper. "You are willing to show me."

I gave him my most sincere smile. He was asking me what I never thought I would hear him ask. He was asking me to show him how to let go of the past; something no one else could help him to do, as they did not know the things I knew.

Yet, I needed more.

"Then I'll need to know more about what you need to overcome." I said with confidence. Of course, I was talking about the diary. He met my gaze.

"I'm not saying it'll be easy, mind you," he added, reaching into his pocket. After a moment, he drew out the leather bound book, and placed it in my hands. "I'm trusting you with this, as I've never trusted anyone before…"

"What about your psychiatrist?" I asked. I'd always wondered whom the 'Shrink' was he'd referred to in the entry I had read, all that time ago on the hill. It seemed so far away, I was questioning whether it actually happened or not.

"I don't need their help anymore," then he added. "You've helped me more in these past few days than anyone else has in my lifetime. And that's something, Tifa. Thank you."

The sincerity in which he smiled at me then, made my heart leap. His eyes shone with a new found brightness that I never knew existed, and for once I actually began to think that I could do it; I could help him. We'd come so far together, it seemed that we might as well go further.

The eternity between us closed, and our lips met. There was no hidden shooter this time, although, I have to say- I do not think a bullet could have torn me from his arms.

Nightmarescape diaries IX

_Exert from Vincent's diary, new entry_

_I've decided to start a new diary. The old one had too many bad memories in it; start as mean to go on I suppose- a new entry, a new start. It was Tifa's idea, initially. _

_I'm still a little afraid to sleep: just in case my daemons punish me for allowing my heart to get in front of my head, if there is such a thing, of course._

_But enough on that; Tifa told me to record all that is positive in this one, and all that is negative in the other. _

_Well there isn't much to record in here that couldn't be considered risky; in case the wrong person were to pick it up and read it. I think THAT would raise a few eyebrows, no doubt._

_I don't really trust this establishment enough to believe my room is impenetrable. That would be foolish._

_Tifa told me she doesn't want to stay here; says she feels unsafe, even with me in her company. Can't say that I blame her really. I've not really had much faith in Cloud of all people. He's grown less and less trustworthy as the days go by._

_But I know that he has forbidden her and me from leaving Junon: Wants to 'keep an eye on us' or so he says._

_Makes me laugh, really. Tifa once used to feel for him, more than she thinks I know. A man like that does not deserve a woman like her. Not that I'm saying that I deserve her any more. I cannot begin to wonder why she feels for me so; I can only guess. But I'm glad of if none the less._

_Nothing has really been said, but I think we've both guessed it by now. The words hang in the air, unspoken most of time. All it will take now is for one of us to reach out and grasp them._

_. . . . . . . . . . . . . _

The next morning found me asleep in an unfamiliar bed. I raised my head up off the pillow, ignoring the dull pain in my side. The room I was in was similar in proportion and decoration to Vincent's, the last room I remember being in.

I sat up gingerly, swinging my legs over the side of the bed, and standing up shakily.

All around the edges of the room were boxes, with my name written on in scruffy black writing. I reached for the nearest one, and lifted the lid carefully. Inside were all of my books and such from the shelves in my room. It suddenly hit me that I would not be able to go home for a long time.

For lack of something to do, and for the fear that I would run into someone undesirable if I left, I began to unpack the boxes, one by one. I had already resigned myself to the fact that I could be here for a long time, but still I only unpacked the necessities, and left the other things neatly packed away. The boxes I did not unpack I stacked one on top of the other in the back of a small closet that was provided with the room.

I wiled an hour or two away by reading; yet my eyes could not focus on the words. At one point, I think I read a page four times over before realising. Sighing with frustration I shut the book abruptly, setting it down on the sturdy table in the centre of the room. I walked around, thinking that it would do me good to keep moving, what with my recovering injury, but it did nothing at all to console my restlessness.

That's when I saw it.

A small black box, no bigger than to fit in my palm, with a small red button on it, and a little LED screen. There was a number on it: _413713. _ Slotted underneath the clip that would attach it to an item of clothing or a pocket, was a small folded piece of paper. I recognised Vincent's hand instantly.

_If you need me, beep this number. It's a pager, in case you didn't know. If you lose the number, imagine the letters of my last name as numbers. Use only the ones that resemble them._

_Vincent._

I smiled a little. Always thoughtful, Vincent, even if you didn't believe it. I mulled it over in my mind whether to call him or not; he said if I _needed_ him, not if I was bored.

Saying that however, my stomach was aching with hunger. This was a need, if any. Feeling a little sceptic, I pushed the red button. The number flashed on and off the screen repeatedly. After only a few seconds had passed, my door handle turned, and Vincent walked in.

"You called?" He said, an ironic smile on his face. I grinned.

"I'm… um hungry." I said, averting my face. The thoughts of yesterday brought a flush to my face. Yet he did not speak of it.

"I'm sorry I've not been to see you sooner. I thought you were sleeping." He sighed, opening the door for me. I walked out, and he locked it behind him, putting the silver key on a chain into my hand. My guess was he would take me to a cafeteria of some sort.

"What time is it?" I asked. He jerked his wrist back, checking a watch that he wore there.

"12 noon." He answered. I raised my eyebrows a little. "Not what you expected, hm?"

"No. I thought it was later…" I shrugged. "How come you were able to get to me so fast?" I questioned, voicing what I had been wondering.

"My room is across the hall from yours. I had just gone in to change." He said matter of factly. He turned left at the end of the corridor, and then took a right.

"I couldn't hope to remember my way around here…" I sighed, following him hopelessly. "It's too big." He let out a small laugh.

"It is isn't it? I thought so too, when I first arrived here. It used to be a massive underground industry storage complex. It took an alarmingly short time to convert it all." He told me, walking a little slower so we were side by side.

"But what I want to know is, where did Cloud… and the company get all the money from?" I exclaimed, as we turned right again.

He smiled again, and we emerged into a large dining area. It had a high ceiling with overhead lighting above scattered tables and chairs. The colour scheme was a little drab for my liking, but the smell of delicious food made up for it.

We ordered our meals from the counter, and took a table at the far end of the room. Surprisingly, for the time, we were the only ones here. Vincent said that the other employees didn't get off for lunch till one.

"So tell me about how A.S.P.S got so big in a year." I said, shifting in my seat to ease the ache in my side. Vincent gave me a sympathetic look before continuing.

"Well at first, Cloud and a few others because mercenaries; hunting down the remaining monsters and killing them. Our names were already widely known, so people began to pay us to exterminate them from their towns and villages," he told me, leaning back causally in his chair, his ankles crossed over.

"You mean you went with Cloud?" I asked. It seemed like something the old Vincent would do: helping others while trying to 'atone for his sins'.

"We crossed paths, and decided to go together, seeing as we had done so in AVALANCHE. That was when I learned about Neo ShinRa." His face darkened. "I couldn't let them come back, not after everything they had done." His knuckles whitened on the tabletop. I placed my hand gently on his.

"I know, Vincent, I know." I reassured him. He smiled at me softly.

He lowered his gaze before continuing. "Then Cloud said that there were a few rich officials around the world that had only gotten so because of ShinRa's downfall. They couldn't afford to let them come back, but they sure could afford to pay us. We became assassins of some sort. At first it was just spying, then the money got serious." Vincent's brow creased.

"What about the HQ?" I prompted.

"Another aristocrat owned this land, and said we could use it as a base. Cloud, Barret and myself decided to recruit others to join us. When we got so much support that we needed a more… lavish base, our sponsors paid for equipment, and other resources. And that's what we do, now. Spy, execute, search and destroy. It's nothing glamorous, but it's a job. And if it stops ShinRa, I'm willing to do what it takes." I felt his hand clench beneath mine.

"I wouldn't have thought any less of you because of it Vincent." I said softly, smiling at him. He returned the smile, but without as much heart. "In fact, I think it's quite an admirable position to hold." I turned my head away bitterly. "I'm so angry that Cloud didn't think I'd want to be part of this…"

"I tried to tell him you would be angry. Not inviting you to join us would probably cause you to ignore his orders in the future. I knew you'd come one day, though." He squeezed my hand.

"You did?" I swallowed.

"Yes. When I found out his plans to leave you in New Kalm to try and identify the ShinRa spy that was residing there, I made it clear I was against it. He did not heed my word, so when I thought it would be too dangerous for you, I left HQ with the means of going to the JPD, and left Junon for New Kalm. And now, here we are."

My smile broke through again.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .


	7. Chapter 7 Revised

Chapter Seven Revised (or rather lots of chapters condensed into more substantial ones.)

_. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . _

_Something quite beautiful_

After I'd eaten, I was taken back to my room, for Vincent had business elsewhere in the web of the complex. Bored and restless, I paced my room, as the sun moved across from the left of my skylight, to the right.

When an eternity had passed, and the moon hung low in the sky, and stars twinkled here and there, a knock came at my door. At my call, it opened, and a rather tired, dishevelled looking Vincent entered.

"Good evening…" he sighed, slumping into a chair at the table in the middle of my room. I sat on the one adjacent to him, and folded my hands on the table's surface.

"Hard day?" I dared to ask; his head was resting on his folded arms. He sat back, his shoulders sagging slightly, eyes closed in fatigue.

It was as I surveyed his face in the soft starlight that I realised how dimly lit my room was. I had been sat in semi darkness, the only light being provided by a small lamp at the far end of the room. It did little to illuminate the shadows of his face, some put there by literal darkness, others by darkness of another kind. He sighed deeply and opened his eyes to look at me.

"Cloud has conveniently increased my workload," he told me, stretching a little in his seat. The movements didn't seem to do much to assuage his apparent discomfort and frustration. "I've been working at the Junon Police Department all day, as well as managing a pile of paper work almost as tall as me." It occurred to me he was not joking.

"He's just trying to aggravate you even more." I muttered, running a hand idly through my hair. I felt privately glad that in my boredom I had not neglected to brush it. "Try not to let him get to you…" I reasoned.

"I know, I know, but it's a lot easier said than done." His hands balled into loose fists. "He makes me so angry sometimes, it's all I can do not to sink my fist into his face. We all want the same goal, so I don't know why he has to act like I'm against him all the time."

"He's changed so much…" I shook my head sadly. "But I guess there is nothing we can do to help him. Which reminds me, I read your diary." His head came up, eyes a little wide with apprehension.

Sure I'd read it. I'd been reading it during my pacing of my room, all day in fact. I hadn't been able to do anything else, as what I had read there reached inside of me and left something; a great feeling of sympathy and regard for him.

I had an idea as to how much he suffered; but nothing was as I expected from the first word onwards.

"_She won't face this alone._" I quoted what I had read that day. His eyes cast downwards, red glow fading a little as the iris diverted from the light. But I could still see them shining dimly out of the dark. "I thank you for everything you have done for me. I really mean that, Vincent." I reached across the table for his hand. It did not flinch away.

His eyes met mine again, their full glow restored. Beautiful.

"I had to, Tifa." he said, his hand closing around mine. His hands were warm and gentle as they touched mine. I could stand it no longer.

"Vincent I need to know something." I began. His warm expression turned a little cooler, as if he was expecting something bad. Perhaps it would be for him, I thought, but I had to know, for me.

"All along you have been pretending that this has never happened…" I began, choosing my words with caution. His brow furrowed.

"This?" he asked, his hands tightening their fists beneath mine.

"Last night, the night I was shot…" I ignored his slight discomfort. "You've never once talked to me about it. I… I need to know what's happening."

He stood up slowly, letting my hands slide to rest on the table surface. He walked to the centre of the room and looked up, out of the skylight, at the glowing stars above him. After while in which he said nothing, I got the impression I was to follow. I decided to humour him.

"I once looked at these very stars, on a very different night, but thinking quite similar things, a long time ago, Tifa." He said mysteriously. I stopped a respectful distance behind him. He didn't move. "I think you can only imagine what those thoughts can be, and I can never hope for you to understand me, now, or ever."

"But I've been trying," I reasoned. "The diary, the dreams, I was there- I saw it all, Vincent." I faltered. He heaved a sigh, but said nothing more. "I just want to know the truth."

"The truth?" he turned to face me, those eyes penetrating me. I nodded. I stood before him, my eyes threatening to spill tears. I think I understood his hurt. He didn't want to tell me, for a fear that there would only be an outcome like last time. But I wasn't Lucrecia.

"I want you to tell me what you _feel_." I told him.

"Then…" His hand came to rest on my face, lifting it so our gazes were bound together. "What I feel now… it's not easy to describe, Tifa. But… over the last couple of weeks in which we've been in each other's company, I've come to seek it more and more. I don't know what I'd do if anything bad happened to you…" He lowered his head, his dark hair falling over his eyes.

"Vincent, nothing will happen. As long as you are with me, I'll be safe." I smiled. He swallowed.

"I don't know if it's love yet… but it's the closest I've been. Is that what you wanted to hear?". I felt his hands shaking, his eyes on me, waiting with some dread for my response. I smiled.

He lifted my face slightly, his lips meeting mine with a breathless touch. I was suddenly unaware of anything else in my world. It was small, and pretty empty, but yet complete with Vincent in it.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I awoke late that morning. It seemed a lot warmer in my bed than it had been the night before last: Then I smiled. Vincent's arms were around me, and I could feel the steadiness of his breathing as his chest was pressed to my back.

I was filled with a desire to fall back to sleep, but there was something preventing me from doing so, a sort of ominous feeling that I couldn't describe.

So I decided on impulse to reach underneath the pillow my head was laid on. Reach underneath to feel the cool leather surface of Vincent's new diary, the one I had instructed him to fill with positive thoughts, as a way of replacing the negative ones in his previous diary.

Yet I did not feel it.

Mild panic took me, battled by reasoning. It had probably just moved when I had been asleep on it, yes that was it.

I swept my hand around fully, yet I did not feel what I was searching for. It could have fallen down the back of the bed, I thought. I ruled that out when I found that the headboard was bolted to the wall, and that was bolted to the bed. There was no way it could have moved by itself.

Someone had stolen it.

By now my movements were enough to have woken Vincent, who raised his head slightly up off his arm, and looked at me.

"Tifa, what's wrong?" he said at once, spotting my frantic expression.

"The diary, it's not here…" I grumbled, throwing the pillow off the bed and tearing back the sheet, as if it were buried beneath the mattress itself.

"Don't worry about it, I'm sure it'll be lying around somewhere," he reasoned, although I could sense the doubt in his tone.

"You think Cloud's taken it?" I asked, letting my hands drop to my side, ceasing their frenzied searching.

"Possibly…" he mused, turning onto his back, his arms behind his head. I sighed and slumped back down, my eyes to the ceiling.

"How are you so calm about this?" I murmured, rubbing my aching forehead with my hands. I felt his arm go around my shoulders, and I turned towards him in his embrace, seeking comfort from being in his arms.

"It probably won't tell him anything he didn't know, or hadn't guessed already, Tifa," Vincent answered. "Cloud is making himself angry, day by day. Soon, he'll let it all out, but through what means, I don't know…"

"Would he harm you?" I asked, raising my eyes to glance at him. Vincent was calm, and unfazed. I gained comfort from this.

"I cannot answer that question. I don't know myself." He replied, subconsciously holding me tighter. I think we were comforting each other.

"Is there anywhere we can go? Anyone we can go to?" I thought aloud. Vincent smiled slightly.

"We could go to the one of the other bases, I suppose, but we'd have to get Cloud's permission, unless we get the permission of the other base leaders'. They can override his decision."

"And who are the other leaders?" I inquired hopefully. Vincent's tone was filled with optimism.

"Barret, Nanaki and Yuffie." He smirked.

"Coral, Cosmo Canyon or Wutai?" I asked, smiling gleefully. We'd found a way out.

"Either will do… but we'll need to contact them first. I've got a feeling that Cloud will be anticipating such a move..." His smile faded. "I'm just worried about what he will plan to do to keep us here…"

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

"What do you mean I can't use the phone?" Vincent growled rather menacingly to the frightened looking secretary. I looked from her fearful face to Vincent's, which was frowning with deepening anger.

"Boss's orders I'm afraid," she stammered, her tone faltering. "You'll have to take it up with him if you have a problem, sir." Vincent let his fist slam on the desk before storming off in the direction of the conference room. I ran after him as best I could, my side still aching dully.

"Vincent?" I panted, coming to walk in his stride.

"Son of a bitch…" he cursed, kicking the wall with his boot. "Thinks he can keep us here…"

"You mean he's forbidden you from using the phone?" I exclaimed, frowning a little.

"He certainly doesn't want us to leave here, that's for sure…" He mused. Then he stopped. "Tifa go back to your room."

"No, I'm going with you!" I stomped my foot adamantly. Vincent shook his head.

"I've got a feeling about why he doesn't want _us_ to leave. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have a problem if it were just you, or me…"

"You mean he's…"

"Suspicious, no doubt. Jealous? Maybe." Vincent resumed walking, although he seemed to have calmed down considerably.

"Where are you going?" I asked, following him again. His pace was not so fast that he could evade me.

"To see a friend. She has a link with one of the other bases and could contact them for us." He answered, heading in the general direction of the administrative sector, from what I could tell of the signs, tacked to the walls at irregular intervals.

"Us?" I asked hopefully.

"I'm not staying here, no way. And you're not going alone, that's for sure. Anyone Cloud sends as an escort is not to be trusted…" he said, more to himself than me. However, it was enough to get my interests piqued.

"You think that someone from A.S.P.S would harm me?" I questioned. He stopped in the corridor and sighed deeply.

"_Not_ if they were from A.S.P.S, no. But lately I've become inclined to believe that…" he shook his head. "It's not really safe to say."

"I think I know what you mean." I said in a low voice.

Someone, who was employed by A.S.P.S, could be a ShinRa insider, and if I could read Vincent's expression clear enough, it seemed that Cloud was neither ignorant nor bothered by this fact. He was planning to remove me, if I seemed to be a threat to his position.

"Cloud is employing _ShinRa_?" I let the last word fall from my lips as if they were poison. Vincent's crimson eyes widened, but the pupils hardened in a gesture that clearly confirmed he thought the same as me.

"It's a possibility we mustn't rule out Tifa," he shook his head slightly, taking my hand in his. "I'm not going to let them get you, Tifa. I promised Barret that." he smiled in a way that said to me it was for my benefit only.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

I fired continuously at the target, my eyes narrowed in concentration. Few bullets penetrated the outside yellow ring of the board, and as the echo of the last bullet died out, I lowered my arms with a grunt of frustration. I set it down on the table before me with a clatter, and looked to my left.

Vincent had unloaded three whole magazines into the target's orange and red circles, never missing. He was currently ejecting the empty magazine, and jamming in a new one.

I pushed back my protective goggles and let them rest on my hair, wiping the moisture from my skin with the back of my hand. The atmosphere inside the shooting range was humid, and the air was filled with the continuous sound of a barrage of ammo.

Vincent looked over at me just as he was raising his gun, but on seeing me leaning on the table with a resigned expression on my face, He lowered it to his side again.

"No luck?" He asked, a small smile on his face. I felt my lips twitch.

He stepped out of his area and came to stand behind me.

"I know you can do this Tifa, I've seen you throw punches more accurately than anyone. This should be a breeze for you."

He reached around me and picked up my empty gun, and reloaded it for me, placing it in my hands, and raising them to eye level. His hands were over mine, his finger resting over mine, twitching on the trigger. I felt my heart jump a little, and I was sure he could feel it beating against his chest. His cheek was so close to mine, but I shook away the notion, and concentrated as best I could.

"The best thing to do when aiming," he told me. "Is to imagine you're not shooting at the _target._" His lips were close to my ear.

"So I have to imagine I'm shooting at _someone_?" I mused, chewing my lip thoughtfully. I felt him nod in response. It was the same as I had been taught in combat, but I was always instructed that anger was sometimes a negative thing if you let it get the better of you.

Focusing, I squinted down the gun shaft. The sounds of firing bullets seemed to fade away into the background, and all there was in the room was me, the target, and between us, the gun. I closed my eyes for a second; trying to conjure the image of someone I felt hatred for. I was a little surprised to find that my mind settled on Cloud.

Deciding on testing this notion, I opened my eyes. I looked at the pale, strong fingers coving mine, and gained strength from them. I fired a shot.

"Bull's-eye." Vincent whispered into my ear. I grinned foolishly.

"Comfortable are we?"

A voice shattered the quiet my concentration had maintained. I let my hands fall to my sides, and felt Vincent move away from me. I turned to see Cloud before me, benevolent smirk on his face. My finger twitched on the trigger as I held the gun at my side.

"Just practising." I said coolly, my other hand balling into a fist. He took all this in with a cold sweeping gaze.

"I see… well I have come to inform you that you have been offered a transfer to another A.S.P.S base." He said, no trace of kindness in his tone.

"Really?" I felt a twinge of hope.

"When can we leave?" Vincent spoke up, pulling off his protective goggles and earphones. I realised I still wore them, and did the same.

"_We_, mr Valentine? Oh no, I need you here. Tifa will be travelling to Corel with an escort."

His eyes hardened a little as they settled on Vincent, but I was proud of the way he returned the gaze. Much more intimidating that Cloud could ever manage; crimson eyes framed by his dark hair and clear-cut features. Frightening at the best of times.

"Then would I at least be allowed to accompany her there, and return here afterwards?" Vincent requested as politely as his conscience would allow. Cloud smirked at this.

"Certainly not. Ms Lockheart, your escort will be arriving tomorrow, so I suggest you are ready to travel lightly by tomorrow morning."

I watched him turn and walk away, the cold hard suit matching his cold hard expression. I wondered what had become of him.

As soon as the smoke from the guns and the noise had swallowed him, I turned to Vincent. His jaw was set, and his hands were working to dismantle the gun in his hands with furious speed. The way he slammed them down on the table told me of his anger, but the dimness of his eyes told me of something else.

"Vincent," I sighed, gently taking the partly dismantled weapon from his hands and holding them in my own. His eyes reluctantly met mine. "I'll be fine." I wished I could believe myself.

"Tifa I can't let you go with an escort that he's chosen. I won't take the chance, I won't." he shook his head firmly, his hair falling over his eyes. I brushed it away with trembling fingers.

"Maybe Barret has had the initiative to send someone to meet us," I reasoned. "I'm willing to take the chance to get away from here, if it means I'm at risk on the way. I can make it on my own."

"Can't you stay?" He asked desperately.

"You know I can't. You just do your job and I'll try to get someone to send for you as soon as I can, I promise."

. . . . . . . . . . . .


	8. Chapter 8 Revised

Chapter 8 revised.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A Goodbye

Dinner was a subdued affair; Cid, Shera, Vincent and myself had gathered for a meal together in the main hall, as I would be leaving first thing tomorrow. I had packed necessities only; in the back of my mind I couldn't help but think that I probably wouldn't need them if I wasn't going to make it, but the other part pushed that notion aside.

After a painful half hour's silence in which none of us really ate much, Vincent and I left the table to go back to our corresponding rooms. My stomach was churning inside, and I felt a little queasy after the meal I had forced myself to eat. Vincent looked how I felt.

"Tifa…" he stopped outside my door and shuffled his feet for lack of something to do. "I don't know what to say to make you feel better. So I'll just say goodnight." He tried his best to smile for me, but I could see that it wasn't going to work. I sighed as he turned to enter his own room.

"I love you, Vincent." I said plainly, opening my door and then slamming it behind me. The action seemed to me to be a metaphor for how I was cutting myself off from him before my last journey.

I could not rid the image of him stood before me in the gun hall, eyes lowered and glowing dimly out of the gloom. Defeated; everything about him at that time screamed it; his stature, the way he tried to smile, everything.

But most of all, I couldn't stop thinking about the way he had kissed me, the softness of the fabric of his shirt, the tender way his fingers brushed my skin, only by accident. I found myself craving that, all over again. It was something that I felt I would never be able to relive, not in a thousand life times.

He had said no words but his eyes told me all: In the firing range, through the gloom, the smoke, and the ricocheting bullets. They had said, 'I want you, and I never want to let you go. But I know that I have no choice.'

My door opened suddenly and I whirled in the centre of my room. Those eyes, the ones I could spend an eternity lost in, were upon me. I heard the lock click.

It was dark inside; I had neglected to turn on the harsh electrical lights. The only light was that given by the moon above the ceiling glass. The dark shadows of the stacked boxes of my belongings loomed out of the shadows. Yet despite the darkness, I could see his irises burning into me, the only light I could find through the gloom, the only light that I had to guide me.

"Tifa…" He began, staring down at the faint strip of moonlight on my carpet. "I'm not leaving you tonight."

I found the strength to smile, before allowing him to take me in his arms and carry me toward the bed, the sheets soft and cool against my skin as he divulged me of my clothing, making me feel more alive than I'd ever felt before beneath his hands, his mouth, and his body.

When I awoke suddenly in the night, it was only to find myself struggling to recall the sensation of the night that had left my heart racing; a kiss leaving me breathless, skin to skin under tangled sheets, sweats mingling into one scent… and the sound of his voice, telling me he loved me, too.

I closed my eyes, willing the time to slow so I could stay in the memory of his arms forever.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Time did the reverse of what I willed it to. Before I knew it, faint light was creeping into my room and I knew that it was the coming of the dawn, signalling the coming of my departure.

There's was something greatly amiss, and I had to try to stop it, if that meant dying trying. I had to warn the others, and then they would know that Cloud wasn't the Cloud he once was.

But I found my mind shifting to Vincent. His face, so defeated and empty as he watched me slam the door in his face, cutting him off from me for what could be the last time. So beautiful above me that night, his ruby eyes burning and weeping for me, as our bodies became one.

Luckily, he did not wake as I extricated myself from the bed and the tangle of limbs and sheets.

I leant over his sleeping figure, holding my breath, afraid of waking him. I looked down on him as he slept. The only time I had ever seen him without worry etched into his expression.

His hands were loosely clasped, and he appeared, if just on the outside, relaxed. But from experience, I knew he'd be feeling very differently on the inside. It was only my guess as to what was going on inside his mind.

I dared to lean over and place a breathless, soft kiss on his cheek, before sweeping silently out of the room. Glancing at him periodically to check to see if he was still asleep.

He did not wake.

The place seemed a lot more sinister in the gloom of the morning, and goosebumps shivered across my skin. I longed for Vincent's strong, yet comforting presence to surround me the way it always did when he was near me, but I knew he was still sleeping back in my room, dreaming.

I drew my arms around myself tighter, and shrugged the bag I had packed up a little higher on my shoulder. It contained a change of clothing, my fighting gloves, a bar of soap, and so on. My mind was far from thinking of what I had and hadn't packed.

My footsteps seemed louder and out of place, as I was the only one who was apparently awake here. The steel walls and doors with intercom panels on the outside reminded me all too much of a fortress, an inescapable prison; One that I thought I'd never want to remain inside, and yet the feeling of attachment to this complex was tugging at my feet, urging me to turn around and head back to the place I felt the safest, the place I felt Ibelonged.

I stopped. Someone was stood waiting by the deserted reception desk for me: I assumed it was for me, after all; who else would be required at this hour?

"Ms Lockheart?" a familiar voice called into the greyness. The overhead light above me flickered and clinked emptily. The bulb was dead.

It was a voice I thought that I wouldn't hear. It was the man I recognised from Junon. The man whose daughter we had rescued, back in the days of AVALANCHE. I felt that if anyone could help me, it would be him. I tried to recall his name.

"John isn't it?" I asked unsurely, stepping forward with uncertainty. I was not totally sure of his trust.

"Yes, Tifa isn't it? Good, good." He uncrossed his arms and stepped into a small circle of dim light provided by the 'emergency' bulbs. "Now listen, I'm escorting you to Corel, but…" he trailed off, his dim grey eyes flitting from door to door. "It is not safe to tell you here. We have no choice but to leave now. It is your only chance…"

He walked ahead of me, and I was aware of his constant mumbling and hand wringing. This man was very, very nervous about something. I swallowed and fought the urge to run back.

Back, to Vincent.

It was 5:30 am.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_Vincent: part 1: Ocean of life_

When I woke up, I felt a distinct sense of loss, like I'd misplaced something of great importance to me. When I had awoken enough to realise the truth in this, I screwed my eyes shut, increasingly aware of the empty space between my arms.

Yes, I knew she was gone, and no, there was nothing I could do.

She could be safe, for all I knew. Tifa was a strong woman: not only physically, but in the mind. She had faced things that I could not imagine, seen things I could not visualise. Of course, I had suffered too, but the way she held herself in times of trouble, the way she was so optimistic, when everything around her was so bleak and empty, was both a mystery and a miracle.

A mystery in that I couldn't understand why she could behave so, when nothing seemed to be going right, and all was lost, or appeared so; and a miracle in that she was usually right. We'd made it this far together, me, her, and the rest of the group, and then it had all boiled down to this: She was fighting for her life yet again, but this time inadvertently against a man she once fought alongside of.

And I could do nothing at all to prevent it.

If she was all right, and she'd faced what was ahead and won, I would only be risking myself, and throw away all that she had gained.

I surprised myself these days; at one point I would have jumped into the action without a second thought. But she taught me that things happen the way they do because we are being presented chances to redeem ourselves. She taught me that there is good in everyone, and also a weakness.

I sat up in bed, feet to the floor, head in my hands and cried. Dare I admit it, I cried. I felt so powerless, small and defeated. Her last words to me had been, I love you. And those words were the ones I longed to hear from her, but ones I wished I'd never heard. Because it made it hurt more. Because I couldn't fight the feeling that I'd never see her face again, either by the light of day, or in the heat of night. She was out of my reach one more.

_I'm just afraid that it will happen again. _I'd said to her.

_How_ could I let _this_ happen? After I had allowed a man to step into my life and take what was mine once already, anyone would assume I wouldn't let it happen again. But I had. I sickened myself. The situation, as always, had rendered me powerless and defeated.

Again.

I felt so weak, so lost, and so _stupid_. What was I thinking, allowing her to go? What was I doing still here?

_Again._

Sitting here crying wouldn't help. Staying here was signing her death warrant.

I stood up quickly and pulled off the wrinkled clothes I had slept in. Grief and fatigue had caused me to not care what I slept in, but I knew what I had to do now.

I pulled on my JPD uniform, the fresh blue linen cool against my skin. It felt good to wear it again, after a week or so of not doing so. As I pulled on my boots and checked my gun the sun was already creeping up the horizon. The sky was bloodshot, veined red through the asphalt.

Cloud could go and fuck himself: Probation my ass.

When I left my room and locked it, it was six thirty. Tifa would have left here not long before me. Nobody was awake, but I figured that Cloud would know. He would know I was leaving.

'Let him try and stop me,' I thought viciously, my mind already deciding on harsh actions to get him out of my way, should the occasion arise.

However, as though he knew what I was thinking, I did not encounter him, or anyone on my way to the complex exit. Only the night guard, Simon, saw me at all, but he only nodded to me as I stopped to swipe myself out using my employee card.

"Early start, as usual?" he smiled, his eyes focusing on me from the small security monitors he had been watching idly for the past 8 hours of his shift. I acted impassive.

"As usual," I confirmed, shrugging and re-pocketing my card. The turnstile unlocked, allowing me to slip through. "Get some sleep Simon. You look beat." I told him.

It had become a regular joke between us, although I never really smiled to him. The middle-aged security guard was a loner, a little like me I suppose. We had an understanding.

He let out a snort and leaned back in his chair, no doubt relieving some stiff muscles in his body. I felt a slight feeling of envy for his simple, repetitive, yet peaceful lifestyle.

I shrugged inwardly. I had the choice in life to decide what to do. After ShinRa had apparently fallen, everyone had the chance to start over again, and most of them had taken it. Life had a newfound value; people began to do things that previous restrictions had prevented them from doing before, and travelling became ever more popular, despite the dangers it brought with it.

That's where the monster hunting trade had originated, and so, A.S.P.S.

After meteor, I had chosen this filthy black trade as my living. It was tiring and never ending, it seemed, but it was what I did best, and it gave me a feeling of peace inside; knowing I was helping others, even if they didn't even know I existed.

_They didn't even know I existed…_ I thought, every time I fired a bullet. They never saw me coming at them, never felt my presence. Didn't get a chance to escape, leave before I forced myself into their midst…

Yes, AVALANCHE was unaware of me before they had stumbled across me in the ShinRa mansion basement, wallowing in self-pity and admonishment. Then I had felt obliged to join them; we had a common hatred after all.

But after meteor, I was alone yet again. Wallowing in self-pity and admonishment. Yet again. But I couldn't help but think about how they were all doing, how they were spending their free days.

Cloud, Tifa, did they end up together after all? Tifa…

It hurt a lot to think about her now.

I screwed my eyes shut as I ascended the stairs, leading up to the higher ground, the town of Junon.

The smell of sea salt, sand and a tang of fish greeted me. The distant screeching of gulls, and the rhythmic swaying of the waves, shifting stones along the beach, washed over my ears as I reached the steel doors, and pushed.

The sky was still pale and washed out over the ocean, and a cold wind beat unmercifully at my skin. I closed my eyes and let it myself merge with it momentarily, as if I was part of the ocean itself, and I would let it carry me wherever it chose to take me.

It struck me that life in itself was an ocean; we are all carried by its current; tossed, turned, beaten, or just left to drift. We are taken places we have never been before, taken to and from people. The ocean took life, gave life… it was a never-ending metaphor. One that could fit anyone, no matter how little or how much suffering they had endured.

It was cruel, the ocean, Life, yet so beautiful.

I balled my fists and took a deep breath. I'd been stood there for at least half an hour. The steel doors shut with a clank behind me. A seagull called shrilly above my head as it flew inland. Another of its kind answered its call a few moments later.

I put my foot forwards and took the first step away from the base, leaving it behind. It was now 7:30am.

In my mind I began to formulate a plan.

_Vincent: part two: the plan_

Life bustled around me on the harbour's edge; sounds, sights and smells all mixing into one large cacophony that was ritual here. Despite the early hour, fishermen were out on their wooden boats a few yards out to shore, drawing in reams of different fish in their woven nets. One of them called to me and waved a friendly hand. I raised a hand in return, but did not stop.

The local market stood closed, however, a faint dawn breeze shifting the stall covers with a whisper of plastic brushing on steel supports. The concrete, dampened by the sea spray, muffled my footsteps. Junon was a ghost town before dawn; no one was around, and that's how I preferred it.

When on patrol as a JPD officer, I chose the night shift. Despite its good intentions, Junon was a sinister place after sundown. It was all sounds, shapes and shadows; even police officers shied away from the duty of keeping watch here; Too many stories of kidnap, and ShinRa spies in the walls for there to be a complete feeling of safety. No police officer was safe, as many of them were members of A.S.P.S.

I was known as the Ghost patrol. It amused me slightly to have earned a nickname so apt to my personality after I had only been at the station for a few days. The name had stuck.

The buildings in the background were still in shadow; the sun's rays had not yet reached out and touched them with gold yet. I could make out the spectral shape of the JPD HQ on the top of the cliff, over-looking the whole of Junon. It was made out of a remaining section of the old ShinRa base, and the old airfield still stood today, used for a helicopter landing zone and incoming private flights.

The Building was a scar of what once we had to bear, but a tribute to what we had achieved.

I climbed up the hill at a regular pace. I knew that the night watchmen would still be there, ready for their exchange at 8am. I knew Cloud was expecting me to leave the base. With every step I took I was exercising caution. I knew I was being watched, and if I put one foot out of line, I'd be removed.

Although Cloud was not right in his mind somehow, an old shell of him still remained; the side that was a little protective over Tifa. I had seen it: the stolen diary would tell him all he wanted to know. But some other force was making him try to harm her instead.

I knew my fight was not with Cloud directly.

My footfalls changed from a muffled thud to an echoing tap as I walked into the JPD building. The lights in the main entrance were off, and the normally honey coloured marble floor was a dull grey. I could see a light on in the security guards room, so I headed towards it.

"Yo Vinnie Ghost squad!" Dan called, grinning widely at me from the other side of a sheet of Perspex. "You back from patrol?"

"You could say that." I sighed, putting my hands in my pockets.

"Wanna go through? I'll buzz you in." he wheeled himself back on his chair and pressed a switch that would unlock the door to the main office for me. I nodded and made my way inside.

The office was empty and silent, the only sounds being the electronic buzz from the monitors left on overnight. I knew a few officers would be typing up reports in their own private offices, but for now, I was alone, and more importantly, unwatched.

I quickly found my office, and went inside, locking the door behind me. My phone answer machine light was blinking, a temporary red glare punctuating the darkness. Frowning, I pressed the 'play' button. The computerised woman's voice informed me that the message was received almost three minutes ago. I waited anxiously.

"Vince? Are you there? Pick up!" it was John, my constable. " Sigh well I guess you're still asleep. Bang damn it why couldn't you be in early, just this once… static well I thought I'd better let you know that Cloud asked me to escort Tifa to Corel. Maybe we were wrong about him, I don't know… pause well be on your guard. Perhaps you should contact Corel to make sure that they know to send a-"

Then the line went dead.

I frowned. If he had called from the A.S.P.S base then there would not have been any static on the line at all. I played the message again. His advice had been cut off before he could finish.

Someone had tapped into the conversation, either from the base, or the police station itself. I chose the former.

I couldn't leave Junon, as Cloud would be expecting that.

I decided to take John's advice; phone the Corel base to check up on things. Although I didn't understand his message, I'm sure Barret would have some answers. I waited anxiously as the dial tone sounded all too loudly from the receiver. It rang for almost a minute.

"Who the f*** is this?" I heard Barret grunt angrily. I smirked, but then it passed.

"Barret, its Vincent." I said solemnly. I waited for his response, which was a stifled yawn. I could hear him moving.

"Alrigh' wassup? I know you wouldn' call me _this_ early unless summert was up." I appreciated his insight. It was just before the eighth hour.

"I'm worried about Tifa…" I tried not to give too much away in my tone of voice.

"Why?" he seemed nonplussed.

"She's on her way to Corel and I'm not sure that she's well enough protected. Apparently there's a ShinRa insider in the A.S.P.S base and-"

"Woah, statichold up!" he cut me off. "_Tifa _is comin' _here_? Since when?"

"Cloud didn't tell you?" my stomach filled with dread. I gripped the edge of my desk with whitening knuckles.

"No, I ain't heard owt from Cloud fer weeks. I thought Tifa was in New Kalm?"

I felt slightly dizzy. I explained to him the events that had taken place since I had taken her from her home, two weeks ago. I conveniently left out the parts concerning Tifa and myself. Barret swore loudly.

"What the fuck is that sneaky lil' shit doin? Summert's goin' on 'ere…" His gruff voice was filled with anger. "Wha d'you suppose we do?"

"I think it's too late to send someone now. If you hadn't even heard about the transfer, then I doubt they'd even get that far…" I had trouble in controlling my voice. "But I think I know someone who can help us. I'll have them bring Tifa to you. If Cloud finds out I intercepted then…"

"You'll get hurt?" Barret sounded concerned for me. I felt honoured.

"It's highly possible. I think it would be best if you didn't contact me from now on. I'll make my own way to Corel. Tell Tifa…" I swallowed. "It'll be alright."

Before he had chance to ask anymore, I hung up.

It was about the time when the other members of JPD would begin to drift in for work. Light was filtering through my blinds, and I sensed movement in the main office. I had at least an hour before someone would disturb me, or even notice I was here; after all, the light in my office was off.

I picked up the phone again and dialled another number I had had written on a piece of paper in my pocket for at least a week or so. I had never imagined I would need it. But here I was. She was the only one who could help me to help Tifa. To save her life.

It rang only three times.

"Geez Hollie, _get down_! Hello?" I smiled despite the urgency of my call.

"Annie."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

So I added in a little bit of extra sex, so what? They both needed it! x


	9. Chapter 9 Revised

Again, sorry if people are annoyed by updates for this, But just to let you know, I'm going to write 1, or possibly 2 alternate endings.

JessicaJ

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_Vincent: part three: redirection_

After I'd put the phone down to Annie, I felt an overwhelming surge of unrest. I could do nothing until I found the opportunity to escape to Corel. Until then, I had to behave like I still thought Tifa was in mortal peril. That wasn't a difficult illusion to maintain, as my plan wasn't fail-safe. I could only hope Annie got there in time to save Tifa.

To pass the time, I thought about going to go and visit Cid. He'd been my only solace since Tifa had arrived with a gunshot wound, almost two weeks ago. He alone knew all of what had conspired between Tifa and I. All of it. But I hadn't seen him since the night before, so he was unaware of what had transpired.

I unlocked the door to my office and entered the main bureau, where all the JPD officers were handling calls from all around Junon and the surrounding towns, or filing paperwork and filling in reports.

Few looked up as I left the room, but I heard a few greetings being called to me. I hadn't the countenance to face them now. I needed to do something to distract me from my agitation.

I arrived at the entrance to the A.S.P.S base, and swiped my pass card, which would allow me to get in. To my surprise, it rejected me. I tried again, but only got the same result. Frowning, I toyed with the idea of using the intercom system to contact Simon at the security room, who would buzz me in. But it occurred to me that my card was not working for a reason.

I recalled my earlier thoughts when I had heard static on the phone message from John. I had also heard it on the phone to Barret. Cloud had intercepted that call as well. It was not safe at the JPD anymore.

I wished that John were here to take control of things. If anything happened to him… well, I couldn't bear to think about it. Chaos. But I had a feeling that it would be like oil to a dying flame. It would bring me a distraction I needed.

I had two options; head back to the JPD and update everyone on the situation, or I could try my luck down in A.S.P.S. I decided on returning to JPD.

_8:40am._

_. . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . _

_Vincent: part four: Mako mind_

"So that's basically why I think Constable John's in danger." I told the congregation. I'd informed them of the answer phone message, played it to them, and shared my worries about the phone call being tapped. I'd gathered most of the squad in the conference room on the department, and was telling them most of everything I had learned, and of my suspicions.

"You're _kidding_?" Flit, a lieutenant spoke up from his silent contemplation. His name, among the squad, was 'Flit', from James Flit.

"I'm afraid not, Flit. Do I look like a joker?" I stared down the long conference table; young, middle aged, and old faces, all stared back at me. Every expression showing different levels of shock, surprise, and even anger.

"I'm almost positive something's up with the A.S.P.S leaders," I said, more to myself than to them, shaking my head in disbelief, and sitting down heavily with a sigh.

"Cloud and the ex-Turks you mean?"

"Yes, Cloud in particular though," I answered, running a hand over my forehead. "I don't know… it's just… I can _feel_ that something isn't quite right…"

"You _feel_?" Lenny scoffed, earning himself a few glares from the less sceptic of the squad.

"I've known Cloud a lot longer than you Lenny…" I stared him down. He avoided my gaze. "Not as a friend, but enough to know what sort of behaviour is normal, and I'm telling you, he is not normal!" I slammed my fist on the table making the nearest water glass to me jump. The glass shuddered slightly, water sloshing over the rim, and then it settled.

It reminded me of ShinRa: Even If I poured the water away, remnants of the once fluid body of water would cling to the glass, running back down to merge again, as a smaller version of itself, but still the same.

Same old ShinRa.

Flit cleared his throat.

"I think I know what you mean," He said carefully, eyes narrowed in thought. Lenny sniggered to himself, and muttered something that sounded like 'ridiculous', but Flit carried on. "When I was a pilot for ShinRa, I used be friendly with Reno and Rude of the Turks,"

Lenny rolled his eyes and put his feet up on the table, faking snoring. Flit scowled at him.

"Shut it, you were Ex-ShinRa too! Used to run all their errands for them didn't you?" Flit yelled suddenly, taking us all aback. Lenny lowered his eyes. He was once a sort of Marine for the president of the co-operation, carrying out most of the dirty work.

"Hey, we're all on the same side now," I reasoned. "The past is irrelevant." I nodded to Flit to continue.

"I hooked up with 'em the other month for a drink, and I have to say, I noticed a difference in them. Not just personality wise, but in the way they look at you. Like they don't actually know you…" Flit scratched his head. "Like when they look at you, someone is stood behind them telling them who you are." He shrugged. "It's just a feeling I get. Didn't see 'em again, that's for sure…"

"When did you first notice it, Flit?" I asked, suddenly interested.

"Well we went out for a drink every Friday night, and I can't says I noticed it at first… so…" He folded his arms and tilted his head back in thought. "I'd say about two months back?" his tone sounded sceptic.

"Well that fits with my figure too," I agreed, slumping back in my seat. "I've been working coalition with A.S.P.S and the JPD for over eight months, and Cloud was pretty much himself for the other six that I was at A.S.P.S…" I felt tired.

Most of the JPD worked in conjunction with A.S.P.S as well, and it had recently been considered to unite the two forces as one; a logical choice seeing as we worked so closely together, and we were both fighting the same enemy, in one way or another.

_9:27am._

"This theory of yours is ridiculous," Lenny said coldly, his smirk wiped clean. "My girlfriend works down in A.S.P.S and she ain't actin' any differently." He folded his arms and scrutinized me, challenging me to answer.

A ripple of suppressed whispers passed around the table, silenced only by Lenny's glare. Rumour had it that he had only joined JPD to protect her. A softer side to the tough nut Lenny that swaggered around JPD HQ like he owned the place.

I hid my coy smile and refocused on the topic at hand.

"He's got a point," Flit admitted. "You work in A.S.P.S and _you're_ fine." I felt all eyes on me.

I avoided their gazes. How wrong he was. If he knew how I was, how much I had endured because of ShinRa, then they wouldn't think that.

"I used to be a Turk," I murmured, not raising my head. I heard a few sharp intakes of breath.

"Whoah! Way to hold back on us, Ex-Turk!" Lenny grumbled.

"I think there's a link between the people who had been affected and their connection to ShinRa…" I mused. Lenny began to object. "I'm getting to it Lenny!"

This must have been the first time I had raised my voice ever in the presence of anyone from the JPD, let alone to the cocky ex-marine. Lenny's eyes were wide in mild surprise.

"All of the people we've mentioned so far, excluding myself, have had some connection with ShinRa, and are suffering signs of odd behaviour, am I correct?" I received nods.

"But how come you, and Lenny, and me are all fine?" Flit asked, gesturing with his hands. A few present mumbled in agreement.

I leant back in my seat, mulling it over in my mind.

"What do Cloud, Reno, and Rude have in common, that can be attributed to ShinRa?" I asked myself aloud. Suddenly I slapped my hand to the desk again. The water jostled. "Mako!"

"Bless you." Lenny snickered. I rolled my eyes.

"No, Mako! Cloud, Reno, and Rude… it makes sense! _All_ ex-SOLDIER and Turks were exposed to Mako!" I felt elated with my discovery.

"Then shouldn't you be affected too?" Flit frowned. True, I had been exposed to Mako, but I was not yet under their influence.

"Mako had only just been invented when I was a Turk. True, I have been exposed to Mako in my time, but I think there has to be a level of mako that you had to have been subjected to…"

"Hold up; you said mako was _only_ _just_ being invented?" Lenny exclaimed. "How old are you anyways?" I smiled sardonically.

"I if told you, you wouldn't believe me." I replied dryly.

"Shoot." Lenny called my 'bluff'. He knew as well as I did that Mako had been invented over thirty years ago.

"Twenty eight." I answered.

"Bull shit." Lenny shook his head in disbelief. Flit cleared his throat.

"Forgive me, Valentine, but it was Professor Ghast who first proposed harnessing the Lifestream as power, and that had to be over thirty years ago. And you say you were a Turk then… I'm no ShinRa buff, but minimal age for the Turks is eighteen. So by rights you should be…" he squinted while doing the math.

"Forty eight at least." I finished for him. "You are, of course, right." Flit's face was a picture.

"But, you said-"

"Flit!" I raised my hand. He fell silent. "This is beside the point. The point is that ShinRa are, or, could be influencing people who have been affected by mako in the past… as for me, well that's a mystery, even to me…" Lenny took his boots from the table and leant forwards, a new gleam in his eyes.

"How do we know you ain't under ShinRa influence, that you ain't trying to destroy A.S.P.S from the inside?" Flit looked sceptic. I raised my eyebrows. The man had a point.

"I assure you, I am not-"

"But how can you be sure?" Lenny scrutinised me from the opposite side of the table. I longed to hurl a glass at his head.

"You can't." I sighed. "I admit that you're theory could be true, however…" I sighed deeply. I couldn't believe I was going to say this. Lenny raised an eyebrow expectantly. "I'm not doing this for them, or the JPD; Not even myself. I'm doing it for…" I lowered my eyes. "An old friend is in danger because I didn't do my job properly. I shouldn't have brought her to Junon-"

"Hold up! _Her_?" Lenny let out a giggle. "_Valentine's_ got himself a _girlfriend_?" I cringed inwardly. Even Flit smiled.

"…"I delayed my reply too long. "On the contrary, Lenny, she isn't my-" I began, but he cut me off.

"That's not what I heard." He wagged a finger. "I heard she got transferred 'cause she was getting in the way of your work." he winked. His smile fell when he saw my angry expression. I knew he was just kidding, but my temper was fragile like my nerves at that moment.

"Oh really?" my white knuckles gripped the table. "Did you miss the part where I said that she was going to be _assassinated?" _I near enough whispered the last word. His face was evident with shock.

"Geez, Vince, I didn'…"

"Try to be punctual to meetings in future then." I snapped in retort. Lenny had sauntered in late; missing the part where'd I'd said Tifa could have fallen into enemy hands. My nerves were severely frayed. I'd had only a few hours sleep the night before, and it was starting to show. I put my head in my hands.

"I'm sure you know by now that I'm not accustomed to sharing my feelings with anyone," I mumbled through my fingers. I got silence in response. "But now is the beginning of a desperate time, gentlemen." I let my hands fall to the table, my expression stoic once more. I stood and began to pace the table, aware of their eyes following my every step. I was glad I held their attention, this once.

"I can assure you that I am not under ShinRa's influence. I understand that some of you may have your doubts, but that's fine; you are all only human after all, and you are allowed to have them. However," I paused in my wake and leant on the back of an unoccupied chair.

"We all know that ShinRa have developed a new kind of force; one that we have come to believe, at the A.S.P.S, and at JPD, could ruin the peaceful life that we've been living without them this past year. I have my own reasons for hating ShinRa, as I'm sure you all do. So I'm asking you now: set aside your differences, and fight to protect what you believe is right. Whether that is a world without ShinRa, or a world where they control your everyday life, that's is up to you."

No one, including Lenny, spoke.

"I'm fighting because there is someone out there that I care about at risk, and I will do anything, and I mean anything, to ensure she stays alive; and if that means taking out the head of A.S.P.S, then so be it. Because he. Is. Being. Controlled.

"I'm trying to reverse the consequences of my past mistakes. Do not make any more for yourselves. My mistake was letting her go…" my voice shook with emotion. "A mistake, gentlemen, I will never repeat." I let my words hang in the air. Nobody moved. I held my breath.

Lenny got to his feet and clapped his hands seven times in slow succession. I watched him warily. The action he had performed was so Lenny, but the expression on his face was as un-Lennyish as I was.

"Well I'm in." He stated ironically, leaning on his palms on the table.

Finn leant forwards.

"If there is any way I can help you, then I will." Flit rose from his seat, hitching up his trousers, and then folding his arms across his chest. "I'm in."

One by one, the congregation of officers rose and said the unspoken pledge of assistance. I was unable to articulate my gratitude.

"S'ok Vince," Lenny clapped me hard on the shoulder, his grin beaming once more. "I know your monthly conversation quota is up." The group laughed. Even me. Slightly.

"We'll help save your girl from ShinRa!" he cheered, raising his arms high. I cleared my throat.

"I think she might be fine…" I glanced up at the clock on the wall. _9:51am_

"What?" Lenny and Flit said at once. They shared a glance.

"I sent Annie after Tifa over an hour and a half ago… she should have reached her by now." I felt slightly sick thinking about it.

"You mean old fire Hag Annie Fortson herself?" Lenny jeered. "Isn' she dead? Old Peter's girl?"

I shrugged. All I knew was I had a chance. The rest of the puzzle would have to be left until later.

_. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . _

_Tifa: bullet in a prism_

I felt a bubble of relief welling up inside as I left the A.S.P.S premises with John, the man who I had met a year ago when I had passed through Junon with AVALANCHE. I felt certain he was not a traitor, as he hated ShinRa as much as I did, even as much as Barret did. I couldn't have felt more certain that he wouldn't betray me, or any other member of AVALANCHE for that matter.

But I had to wonder why; why _he_ was my escort rather than someone who could be a threat, why he looked worried as we travelled across a vast plain separating two forests, and why, most importantly, I was going to be harmed in the first place.

We'd be trudging across muddy fields and through water logged forests for about three hours, and the dawn had come and gone.

_9:00am._

My legs were starting to complain because of yet another uphill struggle, and my skin from the ankles up to my thighs was stained with mud.

John paused at the top of the hill we'd be clambering up, and heaved a sigh. The day was fresh, but grey and dull, with promised of further rain later. Uncaring of the wet grass, I sat down heavily to catch my breath.

"Five minutes, Tifa," John tapped his wristwatch impatiently, running his other hand through his grey hair. His eyes shifted from left to right along the landscape that could be seen from our vantage point, and his posture told me he was agitated to get moving, and anxious, as he kept glancing back along the path we had travelled that day.

"Do you think that…" I gritted my teeth and forced myself to go on, although I was afraid if what his would be, as well as knowing full well what it would be. "Do you think Vincent will be alright?"

The old man gazed at me for a time that seemed like hours. I felt stripped of all of my outer shell, exposing my inner self, and my inner feelings for his display. He could see straight through me. He knew.

"You care about him, don't you?" his hard gaze softened. I lowered my gaze a little.

My voice was a mumble. "So much… he's the only one I have now." I raised my chin and stared at him defiantly. "I want to do everything I can to make sure he'll be alright."

The old man smiled widely, in a fatherly way, though in a sense I could tell it wasn't meant just for me.

"You've chosen a difficult one to love, haven't you miss Lockheart?" his eyes twinkled at me. It was in a manner that suggested he knew him better than just by name and reputation.

I placed a hand on my chest where my heart beat steadily beneath my palm. I let in fall to rest on the ground again. "Why do you ask?"

He smiled again, and stood, walking to the crest of the hill, his hands folded behind his back.

"Well I care about his welfare, being somewhat of an uncle to him, as I am to all of the JPD cadets," he turned and winked.

"You're in the JPD?" I exclaimed.

"Of course! I'm the founder of JPD. That's why I'm in quite a prosperous position in A.S.P.S."

It made me smile to see how this man who was once a retired fisherman with only a dream that junon would return to its old ways before ShinRa, has grown to become the constable of the JPD. That way, he could keep Junon how he had dreamt it: safe out of ShinRa hands.

"I didn't know…" I lowered my head slightly.

"Vincent didn't tell you?" he laughed a little. Then his smile faded as he surveyed me for a little while longer.

"Is something wrong?" I dared to ask, wiping my forehead on the back of my hand. He turned to me with sorrow in his face.

"I'm afraid so, Tifa…" his voice was weary. He sat heavily next to me. "Things do not look so good, I regret to tell you…"

"Is it something to do with Cloud?" I asked, in a way already knowing the answer.

"Yes." He replied with a sigh. "More like _everything_ to do with Cloud. I'm sure you remember the night Vincent came to take you away?" He prompted. I nodded carefully. "Well he told you that ShinRa had developed a new force, one greater than Jenova and SOLDIER. To be honest, I was dubious of such a force; they had been almost the ending of the world, and ShinRa no longer had the power to regain what they had lost, both financially and militarily. But recently… I've made some conclusions of my own…"

"What sort of conclusions?" I asked slowly, taking in all of the information he had said. He frowned and rubbed at his forehead.

"Well… it's not certain to say, but about three days back, I was filing sifting through the companies data base. Now I don't usually do these types of security checks, a hacker normally performs one weekly, but this week I had decided to take it onto my own hands, as Cloud was away on business. I found several files in his Email that were from ShinRa. It was all a jumble of letters and numbers, codes, key codes and such like; I couldn't make any sense of it," he waved a hand impatiently. I sensed his frustration. "But a technician told me, not knowing of course where I had found such data, that these were in a format that could only be understood by the person who held the crack key for it. So with this knowledge, I returned to Cloud's laptop and found?" He raised an eyebrow at me.

"The Crack key?" I suggested. He nodded solemnly.

"He'd been corresponding with ShinRa. If it were just threats and empty accusations like normally exchanged between them and A.S.P.S then why would it have been coded?"

"It wouldn't have been coded…" I sighed, growing more and more conscious of the exposure of our surroundings. Neither of us had been paying attention to what was going on around us. I harboured a sense of forboding.

"Exactly. So I'm guessing that these codes are orders/information from ShinRa. It would make sense, seeing as there have been some incidents where ShinRa have intercepted some of our most critical and secret operations, where they couldn't have possibly known about them! The only solution would have been that there was a well-informed insider." He grumbled, his brow creasing further. "But I didn't have enough evidence…"

"What sort of evidence?" I swallowed. Goosebumps began to rise on my skin, but I rubbed at my arms and ignored them.

"If I could have had enough time to check the data base again and use the Crack key to decode the email, then I would have been able to read what had conspired. But as it happens, I had no such luck." He shook his head dolefully. Suddenly, I thought of something. Something that disturbed me.

"Why did Cloud consent to letting you escort me? Did he know you'd found the files?"

"I'm not sure," he answered, a little shot of panic coming through in his voice.

"If he found out, then to him, we are both expendable." I told him, setting my jaw and swallowing down my nerves.

"You're expendable?" he asked, surprise thick in his tone. "What have you got to do with this?"

His ignorance to the situation worried me.

"I'm meant to be his childhood friend, not to mention the fact that I _was_ in love with him. I'm bound to notice that he's not himself. Question would get raised, and his cover would be blown. I'm too much of a danger to have near him. He knows I'll tell Barret. and I think _that's_ why he never asked me to join him." I sighed at length. The situation was getting bleaker, that was for sure.

"Of course, of course, how could I have not seen it?" he slapped a hand to his forehead. "The 'hidden assassin' in New Kalm was placed there to remove you before you could get to A.S.P.S in the first place! No wonder he was so angry with Vincent…"

"I think we should get moving…" I rubbed my arms vigorously. The sun had been blocked behind thick clouds all day, and as evening approached, the temperature and light was dropping.

_9:23am._

"Well it _is_ getting closer to noon, so if we could just make it to-"

Before he could turn to point to the location where we would be heading next, his sentence was cut short by the deafening blast from a rifle. The way it sounded told me it was from close by.

"JOHN!" I screamed.

He didn't seem to hear me.

His face had changed dramatically from the warm smile it had been wearing only a few moments before. His eyes were wide with shock, but were already showing the signs of emptiness that death brought. His mouth was slightly open, and I wondered if he'd cried out, or what words he was trying to utter into his final moments of existence.

Time seemed to slow down, as the bullet tore through his torso, leaving a crimson blossom mark, blooming larger across the starched white of his shirt. His arms lost all their elasticity and fell limp to his sides.

He crashed to his knees in the mud and the grass and landed graciously on his side, eyes open, lips parted as if in question.

The silence following held a trace of the bullets passing, a subsonic echo that tore out of the gloom with a deafening hiss. It resounded in my ears, over and over again, deluding me into thinking I was trapped in the cross fire of that single, yet fatal bullet, caught in a prism.

There was nothing else I could do but wait.

Was I next? Was John the intended target, or was it meant to be me?

I closed my eyes. My heart was slowing down, so slow I thought it would stop all together. I screwed them shut tightly and sent a prayer to Vincent. I had no way of knowing whether or not he'd receive it, but in what I presumed would be my final moments, I wanted him to know that my final thoughts were of him.

I thought of how much we'd spoken of, come through, achieved, and experienced together. I let the memory of his touch, voice, and taste, wash over me. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him, how much I wished we'd never met, and then he wouldn't have to feel the hurt of loss all over again, because of me.

_Hear me please, oh god I wish I'd never met you, I wish I'd of died in New Kalm that night, died not knowing what love I'd be missing, because then it wouldn't hurt so badly._

"Finally I've found you." I heard Tom's voice say all too clearly. It shattered the comfortable silence I'd created in my mind, while awaiting my death.

"You…" I raged quietly, my voice quaking with anger.

"Yes it's me… did you miss me, baby?" he smirked at me, flicking his brown hair out of his dark grey eyes. Eyes so cold, they froze me inside. The cold gave me control. He would kill me dissatisfied. I wouldn't give him what he wanted.

_9:30am._

"What do you want with me?" I spat viscously. I could see John's empty eyes staring past me blankly. I suppressed a shiver.

No use being angry, Lockheart. Keep calm, buy yourself some time. I decided to keep him talking.

"I've been sent to kill you."

"Why are you doing this? I thought we had something in Kalm… or was that all a lie?" I contorted my face into what I imagined was a hurt expression.

his cold eyes glinted, his smile not reaching them. "Oh, you remember that? I thought you may have forgotten- Seeing as you have a new man now… oh, what was his name?" he drummed his fingers on the barrel of his rifle.

"His name is Vincent." I said through gritted teeth.

"Touchy aren't we?" he smirked at me, crouching down to my level, as I lay on the ground. He reached out a hand and touched my face, almost tenderly. But all there was in his eyes was lust. I slapped his hand away.

"Don't touch me." I snapped. He scowled down at me. His finger twitched on the trigger.

"I'll bet anything you didn't have to say that to Vincent. Bet you gave him all he wanted without a second request." He sneered, his eyes raking my body. "Bet you fucked him. Little slut like you…"

I growled with barely contained fury, bolting upright and punching him square in the face. He stumbled backwards, but recovered faster than I expected. He brought the butt of his gun up, colliding with the side of my head. Reeling, I managed to centre myself, ducking under his next clumsy lunge and forcing the heel of my hand upwards. I felt his jaw crack at the contact with a satisfied grimace. Though I couldn't fight him forever; his next swing of the rifle caught me off guard. I fell to my knees and felt a wave of nausea wash over me, my vision spotted with tiny dancing lights. I felt the pressure building where the butt had collided with my cranium.

"Stupid Bitch." He wiped the blood away from his nose and spat on the ground, all traces of malevolence gone from his countenance. "Shame you never got to be fucked before the end. Well, he'll have to fuck you in hell."

He kicked me in my stomach, and I retched, doubling over with my arms across my abdomen. I coughed, and I tasted blood on my tongue.

"Hope you get paid well for this…" I spat; raising my head and looking him square in the eye. I would not die and look away. "Go ahead. Shoot me."

He stalled a little, as if trying to work me out. I smiled ruefully.

"What's the matter? Scared?" I fake whimpered. I wanted to see him humiliated, feel some small measure of pain, embarrassment. It was all he deserved; all a traitor deserved.

"How many bullets you want, Bitch?" he was regaining some of his swagger. "One? Slow and painful?"

"In the head. The less I see of _you,_ the better."

His brow creased and he spat on the ground again. I was satisfied to see that he looked edgy, and his face was bruising from my punch.

In the distance, a dog barked. He paused, his eyes darting this way and that. I noticed sweat starting to bead on his forehead.

"What's the matter? Scared of an old man walking his dog? I'm sure you'll have no trouble killing him after me: An easy kill for you. Then again, you won't be getting paid to kill him will you?" I smiled, revelling the way that the bitter taste of my own blood in my mouth had given me words to make him suffer.

"Shut up!" He barked, eyes wild and staring.

"Why, you afraid of someone hearing? They'll hear the shot you know-"

"I said SHUT UP!" He screamed. The Dog let out a mournful howl from somewhere behind me. He shoved me out of the way and ran to gaze over the landscape, eyes wild. They were close. But who would get to me first?

I screwed my eyes shut, waiting for the bullet to fire.

_9:47am._

_. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . _

So I slotted in an extra punch. He deserved it.


	10. Chapter 10 Revised

Just a few changes here and there. Hope the first time reader(s) get my vague attempts at twists, ha ha!

_. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . _

_Tifa: Annie_

I don't know how long I waited before I opened my eyes again. I had heard the shot, but it sounded so surreal and distant. I let my eyelids flutter open. Tom lay bleeding in the shadow of someone else.

"Annie?" I whispered, picking myself up from the ground shakily. I failed to stand, and would have fallen had Annie's rough hand not caught my arm to steady me.

"Yeah, it's me. Steady now…" One of her arms was around my shoulders, and the other hand held a shotgun that was smoking at the barrel. The reality of it all sank in.

"Tom… is he…" I swallowed.

"He's dead alrigh'." She shook he head slowly, gazing down at the dead man at her feet. She'd shot him in the head. No chance he could live after it.

"How did you get here?" I knelt down and began to search his pockets. I wanted some answers; after all, the man had been my boyfriend for a time. How was I to know he was a hidden assassin waiting for the go ahead to kill me?

"I got a call from Vincent 'bout 8 this mornin," she told me. "Told me you were in danger. Naturally I had ta come 'n' save yer."

I gave her a watery smile. Vincent's timing struck again. And so had Annie's.

"Thanks…" I felt something cold and wet brush my hand. On looking down, I saw Annie's faithful collie panting and looking up at me expectantly. I crouched and stroked the dog's head, scratching her behind the ears. She seemed to like it. "I guess I should thank you too!" I laughed, as Hollie licked my hand.

"She sure came in useful didn' she?" Annie beamed, smiling down at her devoted companion. Hollie gave a small bark, her tongue lolling out as she panted. "Well, the trouble ain't over yet. I gotta get you to Corel by noon. Vince said Barret's expectin' yer."

I sighed deeply. Tom's eyes were open in shock, and his hand was still holding onto his rifle. I suppressed a shiver. Annie followed my gaze. She kicked the rifle out of his hand, a sickened look on her face.

"ShinRa…" she spat, turning him onto his front with her foot.

That's when I noticed it. A small black device clipped to the back of his trousers. I hesitated slightly, and then grabbed it, turning it over and over in my hands.

"What's this?" I asked Annie, holding it up in my palm to show her. Her eyes ran over it, and then she grunted.

"It's a beeper, I think. Summert they use to let HQ know they done the job." Her voice was filled with scorn.

I examined it closer. It _was _similar to the one Vincent had given me, the one I still had in my pocket. After my short stay at A.S.P.S junon HQ, I had mastered how to use it. On this one, there was a number already entered into the LED screen. He'd already prepared his mission completion message for sending.

I smirked, and pressed send. For all Cloud would know, I was dead.

"What're you doin'?" Anne asked, peering at the black object with interest.

"They'll think I'm dead." I grinned. "We'll be safe to travel from now on." Annie gazed at me for a moment, then grinned, patting my shoulder.

"Good thinkin'. Now let's get the hell outta here." She hitched her Shotgun onto her shoulder and whistled to Hollie, who trotted loyally to her side. "Corel here we come."

_9:53am._

_. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ._

_Vincent: part seven: White rage_

I tore my eyes away from the clock at 9:55am when the phones in the entire department started to ring simultaneously. Someone obviously didn't want the receiver to possibly miss the call. It gave me a feeling of dread to watch as Flit picked up his desk phone and put the receiver to his ear suspiciously, as though it might explode if he did it too fast. The entire room held its breath.

I'd taken command of the operation, which Lenny had christened Mission: latecodeR: an anagram for Corel Date. He promised to fix me up on a date with Tifa when we got there, to bring her back to Junon.

I had objected of course; it would be a lot safer to leave her in Barrett's hands until things became stable back home, but the boys were insistent. We'd bring her back; after all, everyone including myself were in agreement that it was about time I took control of things for once.

But things were about to change.

"Hello?" Lenny said cautiously into the receiver. His eyes traced the ceiling as he listened to the reply. His eyes landed on me, watched from the door of my office. He held out the receiver. "It's for Vincent." He put his hand over the mouthpiece and raised an eyebrow at me.

I crossed the room, the feeling of dread escalating with each step. I took the receiver from Lenny, then pressed the hands-free button, and made a fuss about placing the receiver back down. I indicated silently to a cadet to slam a door. The caller would think I'd gone into a private room. He wouldn't hold back on me. I picked up the phone again.

"Hello?" I said curiously. Flit nodded slowly. He clearly approved of my tactics.

"Vincent Valentine." Cloud's voice sounded into the room. Everyone in the room was still, watching me, listening.

"Yes?"

"I'm afraid I have some bad news," He paused, letting his words hang in midair. I waited. "Constable John left this morning to escort Tifa to Corel, as I heard, you already know," I didn't like the irony in his voice. It was too smooth. "I'm afraid he is dead."

I screwed my eyes shut. I was proud of the officers present who managed to contain their outrage.

"How?" I sounded shocked without even trying.

"I'm afraid we don't know; I've sent some field agents out to investigate of course…" Cloud let out an exaggerated sigh.

"And Tifa?" I asked slowly, not sounding too eager.

"Well I thought you'd already know about her," he sneered. "After all, you arranged to have her taken into someone else's hands. I knew Annie Fortson couldn't be trusted, and because of you, your constable is dead." I shook my head in disbelief. He must know the officers were listening.

"No, because of _you_, John is dead," I answered coldly. "How much did you pay Tom Eastwick to emerge from the shadows this time?"

Flit swore under his breath. He had been head of the investigation to remove him in the first place. Cloud had evidently seen to it that Flit had had no success.

"Oh, believe me, a lot of money. But what does it matter now? I have Ms Lockheart covered." His voice was cold, but I sensed his bluff. He had just admitted that he had paid Tom Eastwick to attempt assassination on Tifa, and John. The Officers around me gaped at the phone. "The assassin's termination massage arrived to me at approximately 9:52am," His words dug at my skin, but I forced them away. I could tell he was enjoying this situation.

"She's fine, you're lying." I said confidently. "Annie made it to rescue Tifa, I know it. You have fuck all to bargain with Strife." My statement was met with a pause.

"Be that as it may, I do have someone _else_ to bargain with." Cloud answered. I looked around the room with a worried expression. The cadets shared it.

"Who?" I seethed.

"I think her name is… um… Susie… Susan?" I could make out a female's muffled scream in the background that I did not recognise. I looked around as Lenny got to his feet quickly. Apparently _he_ recognised it. It was his girlfriend screaming.

"If you even lay a finger on her I'll-" Lenny started to shout.

"And what, Mr Mason? What _will_ you do?" Cloud was clearly revelling in these circumstances.

"Alright… what do you want Cloud?" I said wearily into the phone. He cleared his throat in response.

"I want, Mr Valentine, to see you." He replied coldly. I shared a curious glance with Flit.

"Why?

"You have _skills_ that are… _required_, should I say?" he was choosing his words carefully and tauntingly. I balled my fists.

"When?" I rubbed my forehead wearily.

"When you're ready, Valentine. But we know where you are." The line went dead.

"Shit."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_Vincent: part six: Forked paths_

I set the phone down slowly, my hand shaking, and my breathing slightly irregular. Nobody dared move, or speak a word. I shook my head slowly, and then shattered the calm by slamming my fist onto the desk's surface. Flit flinched.

"Shit…" I repeated, ignoring the throbbing pain in my hand. The pain added an edge to my mood: A dangerous edge.

"What the flying fuck are we supposed to do now?" Lenny scowled, kicking the nearest chair over. It clattered loudly to the ground.

"I don't know… but it seems out of all the options we have, there is only one choice." I sighed. "I have to go to Cloud."

"No way, man! Did you hear that crazy son of a bitch? He _paid_ to have Tifa killed!" The words brought me crashing back to reality. My chest muscles tightened. I was surprised by Lenny's behaviour. I thought he would be insistent on me going to save his girlfriend, but instead, he seemed reluctant to allow me to give in.

"I know." Was all I could manage to say.

"For fuck sake man, where's your back bone gone? Why you so submissive alluva sudden?" Lenny was getting angrier and angrier, but I sensed that not all of it was directed at me.

"Because your girlfriend's life is at risk Lenny. What else do you want me to do?" I said wearily. He didn't answer me.

"We should call Corel. Let 'em know." Flit suggested, reaching for the receiver.

"We can't…" I began. Flit raised his hand.

"We _can't_ do this alone. I think we're all in agreement that Cloud is _definitely_ off the rails. _Something_ has to be done!" He cried, his hands gesturing wildly. I gave him a weary glance.

"But this line is not secure," I reasoned. "You'll need to find a safe line."

"Leave it to me." Flit left the room to his office. Flit was a technology fan; he'd figure _something_ out. I felt my calm returning slowly.

"Lenny?" I called. He met my gaze firmly.

"Anything you say that I can do to help, lemme know." My heart softened for the hard-nut know-it-all cadet. He worked better under pressure that I did.

"Find out what really happened to Constable John. I think he had his tracer with him, so perhaps you could find his trail?" I suggested. He nodded and left the room also.

I commanded most of the cadets and officers to resume their normal tasks, lest Cloud get suspicious. I couldn't help but think that even though we knew of three people affected, there could be more; Spies, who could be watching our every move. I felt stupid having not considered that one of JPD could also be affected. But time would tell.

Flit emerged a few minutes later from his office carrying a strange looking contraption and wearing a wide grin.

"What's that?" I asked sceptically, eyeing the grey metal box curiously.

"I invented it myself; it allows a temporary line to be set up by joyriding, if you like, the existing line, but leaving no trace." He looked elated.

"So it can't be tapped?" I asked, hopeful.

"Nope." He grinned.

"I'll leave it to you to make the call." Meanwhile, I had someone to visit.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_Tifa: backtrack_

We made it to Corel at around 11am. The atmosphere I expected was far less hectic than the one we encountered. In this A.S.P.S base, it was less secret, and the entire town seemed to be a part of it. Its entire perimeter was fortified with a 10 ft concrete wall, and guard towers.

Annie and myself were ushered through corridors and tunnels until we emerged into what seemed to be the main area of the complex. A narrow steel hall way opened up into a huge open space decked with computer screens, data sheets, desks littered with files, and a mass of ringing phones. Just as I was about to get dizzy with overwhelming, Barret showed up.

At 6'5", he dominated any room with his large presence and his thick muscles made him almost as wide as he was tall. His skin was a rich tan brown, and his eyes were so dark, they blended into his pupils. He was more brawn than brains, but he had sense enough to make sure that he had enough people to make up for his lacking. This man, was the true founder of A.S.P.S, the once leader of AVALANCHE itself. It's true leader. I couldn't think of anyone who despised ShinRa more than him, or anyone more capable in bringing about their downfall.

"Barret!" I squealed, running to him and hugging him tightly. This man had been like a father to me when I had first come to Midgar. He had set me up on my feet with my own bar in sector 7, then after that, he had led us out into the world beyond.

His disgruntled expression melted away into a wide beaming grin as he gave me his version of a light embrace; a bear hug. I felt the air slowly escaping my lungs, so I let out a choking sound, hinting to him to let me go. He did so, coughing slightly and rubbing the back of his head.

"This who rescued ya?" Barret gestured to Annie.

"Yes, this is Annie Fortson, and her dog Hollie." The little collie was still haunting our steps, her clever black eyes taking in her new surroundings. Her head perked up at the mention of her name. Barret shook Annie's hand, and looked impressed with her strong grip. He nodded down at the dog, who cocked her head as if to say, 'who the hell are you?'

"Well Tifa, you came 'bout time, we got a helluva situation goin' on." His disgruntled expression returned. "I jes gotta call from junon from a guy named Flit, or summin, works wi' Vince?" he looked at me searchingly. I shrugged; I didn't know anyone else on the JPD force. "Well anyways, he said they gotta hostage situation goin' on."

"That's awful! Who?" I sighed, my hands over my mouth.

"Some chick of a guy who works with Vince… apparently Cloud tried sayin' that he had you, but Vince didn't buy it. Good job, otherwise he mighta done summert rash," Barret began to walk off in the direction of a hall of offices, still grumbling. I shared a glance with Annie, and then decided to follow.

"What are we going to do?" I asked, jogging to keep in his large stride. He stopped and looked at me carefully.

"Vince says 'everythin's gunna be alrigh'.'" Barret said. "An' I think I believed him for a sec back there… but righ' now situation's lookin' bad. JPD can' do shit, cause o hostage. Looks like we'd better get our Asses down there!" He growled, kicking a door open, which was apparently to his office.

"We?" I repeated.

"Well I sure don' think you're gunna sit back on your ass here wait'n are ya?" he mocked, opened a cupboard and retrieving a handgun out of it, and tossing it to Tifa. Annie held firmly onto her shotgun. Tifa turned it over in her hands. It was nowhere near on the same par as Vincent's.

"Do we have ourselves a plan?" Annie said, balancing the barrel of her gun on her shoulder. Barret looked at her as though she had sworn in a church.

"A _plan_? I _never_ plan _anything_! Never have never will." He said brightly, fiddling with some attachment on his gun arm.

Annie stared at him, then laughed through her nose.

"Who'd've thought from a guy like you? Leader of two oh the most prominen' anti ShinRa groups in history, and you've never 'ad a plan…" she shook her head, laughing all the while.

"Damn right, missy. Now let's go and bust Cloud's spiky ass!"

I sighed. Vincent would surely raise an eyebrow at _this_.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

_Vincent: part seven: Shrink_

It was a long overdue visit that I had planned on avoiding to make; yet I felt that it was the only option I had. Outside of A.S.P.S, there was only the JPD that had power, and yet right now, they were powerless because of Cloud.

So I found myself seeking the help of my own personal psychiatrist. He was a close friend of John, who had referred me to him in the first place, regardless of my objection at the time. He carried himself like a man who had lived through many troubles, and made his penance by helping others with theirs. I wondered if I would ever do the same at his age. Then again, technically, I _was_ his age.

I crossed the street a couple of blocks away from the JPD and even further away from the entrance to A.S.P.S.

_But we know where you are_, his cold voice sneered at me inside of my head. I clenched my fists. I couldn't give a damn, right then. All I wanted was Tifa by my side, against my chest, her hand in mine. Everything else was irrelevant to me. Even myself. Nothing else mattered.

Nothing.

I reached the door a lot sooner than I realised in my angry minded state. The door opened before I even had a chance to knock.

"Come in Vincent. I was wondering when you would drop by." The old man said tonelessly. I marvelled privately how little fazed this man. I was determined to prove to him that I was strong enough to confront my daemons; living and metaphorical. I would do anything to rid them from my midst.

"I need your help," I began, but the old man raised his hand. I stood still and silent in his dark hallway, watching him watch me. His cold blue eyes surveyed me, and I was surprised to see confusion etched into them.

"You've changed," he stated, turning and entering a room that branched off from the hall. I waited a moment before following. Inside the room were two armchairs and a large bookcase filled with texts and references to anything to do with psychology. And the occasional fishing book, as I had discovered on my very first visit here.

"What's that mean?" I asked into the silence. His large dominant frame turned to face me. His heavyset grey eyebrows were creased profoundly into a frown, and his large forearms were folded across his broad chest. He paused before answering.

"The despair I used to see in your eyes is gone," he stated, not moving from where he was stood by the window. "It has been replaced by a different emotion; along the same lines, but stronger. Determination, desperation for someone, or something else: if I can read your expression clear enough."

I nodded slowly. He grunted in slight approval, but I could tell he had not finished what he had to say to me.

"John is dead isn't he?" he asked me. I nodded to him. His eyes glassed over momentarily. "Who is responsible for his death?"

I watched him carefully. I knew that although he was calm on the surface, his true emotions were festering beneath. I knew as much from looking at myself. I knew that his anger would give him a new power; it would cause the hot blood inside of his heart to pound through his veins and give him strength that only the heart in peril can give.

So I told him what he wanted to hear. Cloud was the man responsible for John's death, responsible for Tifa's planned assassination and her troubles. I could see the anger shifting beneath him as Lava does beneath the earth before a volcano releases it.

"What do you plan to do?" I asked him. His cold eyes seemed to freeze over.

"Take him out." He said simply, moving for the first time since we had entered the room. I watched him shove a bookcase aside with impossible strength and reveal a storage cupboard of some kind. He removed two guns that I recognised; _Peacemaker_ and _death penalty. _

My side arms had been taken off of me as a punishment of my probation enforced by Cloud. It appeared they had been given to this man for safekeeping, or at least, he had managed obtain them somehow. John had never been idle, even at his age. Cloud had clearly misjudged his standing.

He placed them on a small table as I watched on, confusion creasing my forehead.

He began taking out a gun of his own. It was simple enough, a double-barrelled shotgun with a polished steel shaft, but its name was legendary to me: _'slayer'. _

"_Slayer_… so it's still in existence." I mused to myself. It had once belonged to the head of ShinRa, Rufus, and before him it belonged to his father, and then his father. It had been the president's sidearm over thirty years ago when I had been a Turk.

"Of course," The older man laughed. "It's a testament to how you managed to bring ShinRa to their knees. That time is here again, my friend."

"Cloud thinks Tifa is dead. But I sent Annie Fortson-" I stopped when I read the expression on his face.

He whirled around, the gun shaft pointing at me. He squinted down its length. Somehow I knew he would not miss. I raised my hands in submission. I had to work quickly if I didn't want to end up in Cloud's hands.

"Annie…my wife's name," the man sighed, shaking his head resolutely, sadness in his once expressionless face. His eyes hardened again, and resumed focusing down the shaft. "No it can't be… she died over 4 years ago."

I narrowed my eyes. It hit me that this man had been employed by Cloud. God only knew what lies he'd told him to make him regard me to be a risk in this manner. Perhaps he too, was in ShinRa's grip already.

"How?" I expected him to get angry at my question. Instead he seemed morbidly amused.

"Mass murdered apparently…" He looked bitter, as though he didn't believe what he had been told.

My intuition told me that ShinRa would have broken that news to him. I was inclined to think he was still his own person. ShinRa's arm had not grown long enough to reach this man.

"ShinRa forced me to remain here after her death," he continued. "My home had been burned down by arsonists. I'd been in the marines prior to working in the mines-"

"Mining?" my mind was relaying the information. "You worked in the mines?"

"Yes." He surveyed me carefully from the end of the gun shaft.

"What is your _real_ name, Shrink?" I asked for the first time. Not the name ASPS had given him, to supposedly protect him from ShinRa. His real name.

He squinted at me."Peter Fortson."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I almost wanted to add "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-"

But I didn't.


	11. Chapter 11 Revised

_I definitely don't like this story as much as my others, and looking back all these years later, it seems childish. But I tried my best to improve it._

_JJ_

_. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ._

_Cloud: part one: silicone_

_12:40pm. _

Cloud sat in his office, fingers interlaces, expression writ with satisfaction. The plan was falling into place, at last. Peter Fortson, Ex-Marine, now ASPS psychologist was bringing Vincent to the HQ. A radio transmission had confirmed that he had tried to leave Junon, and had been detained.

Cloud felt proud of his appointment of Peter to keep an eye on Vincent. The man seemed wary of him at first; he'd been slightly reluctant to take the role of spying against an AVALANCHE member. Cloud had insisted that it was necessary to fight against ShinRa; after all, the man '_had_ been a Turk'. There was always the chance he'd return to their side, angry with this establishment for not understanding his suffering.

Cloud's superiors had been most displeased to learn of Vincent's JPD appointment. Their leash on all ex-AVALANCHE members was slowly being loosened. Vincent would be given more privacy and leeway when it came to leaving Junon at his will; making it harder to keep tabs on his location, Cloud thought with a frown.

Then Vincent had unintentionally been informed of the hidden assassin; He'd had heard about it from lieutenant James Flit, who was investigating Tom Eastwick's current activity. Apparently he'd been recently seen near the rumoured ShinRa HQ, and then there were _some_ alleged sightings in New Kalm.

Vincent had, of course, made the connection; Tifa was in New Kalm, she hadn't been invited to join ASPS, and she was at risk. He'd confronted that meddlesome Constable John of the JPD, who'd leaked yet more information about Cloud's plans.

Of course the plan's he'd revealed to the A.S.P.S board were lies. Tifa was a target, not an obstacle. She'd be removed, by 'mistake' of course. But then that damned Vincent had caught on.

Cloud scowled at his folded hands on his desk. Vincent had been more trouble than he was worth as of lately; Tom Eastwick had been exposed too early. But no matter, he contented himself with his musings, He'd been successful regardless. Cloud recalled the message he'd received on his beeper.

Subject: John McHollough – TERMINATED

Subject: Tifa Lockheart – TERMINATED

It couldn't possibly get any better. Those two had been a hindrance to him and ShinRa's plans for long enough. They were out of the way now, with only Vincent left to attend to.

Of course he'd have to spin some lies to Barret at Corel to fill in the gaps. He feared that Vincent's meddling might have done more damage than he had previously anticipated, and his cover was soon to be blown. ShinRa had unseen allies within these walls, he thought, gazing around him at the reinforced steel and concrete. Barret will be facing a bigger enemy than he had first predicted.

His time was soon due, no doubt. ShinRa would be ready to take down this useless organisation. Cloud looked up from his desk as a harsh banging began to issue from the main door. He smirked. Vincent would pay for all of the trouble he had caused.

Cloud felt the silicone chip nestle just a little deeper into his skull. It sent a jolt down his spine. He grinned malevolently. He was going to enjoy this.

No one stood in the way of ShinRa and the Turks.

Not even Ex-Turks.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_Cloud: part two: Perception._

Vincent was shoved to his knees, his hands bound loosely behind his back. He watched as Peter ushered him roughly onto his knees once inside Cloud's office. Vincent winced as a pain jarred up his leg. He cracked his neck, and raised his eyes to look upon a man who he never thought he would hate so much.

Cloud…

"So you've arrived finally." Cloud sneered, standing from behind his desk and walking around it slowly, trailing his fingers along the smooth, polished surface of the wood. "Although I am told that you tried to escape…"

He savoured his position: A man of power before another, bound and helpless.

"Do you believe everything you're told?" Vincent spat, hatred in his glowing red eyes.

Those eyes were mako: though, strangely, a different kind of glow than his. His luminous blue irises were a direct contrast to Vincent's stark eyes of glowering crimson.

"On the contrary Vincent, I do not believe everything I hear from the likes of you." He was surprised when Vincent laughed coldly.

"Then would you believe me if I said Tifa was alive?" Vincent felt a spark of pleasure when Cloud's empty smile faltered.

He regained his composure. "Depending on your evidence." He was further displeased to notice Vincent's unmarred smirk.

"Well I have some evidence," he said slowly, making a show of mulling it over in his mouth. "For one, I called a certain Annie Fortson around 8am to intercept." Cloud narrowed his eyes.

"Your point being, Mr valentine?"

"Do you know who this is?" Vincent jerked his head towards the man he knew to be called Peter. Peter Fortson.

"Yes, but that is irrelevant." He said, though a little unsurely. His silicone chip itched beneath the temple. He brought a finger up to prod it testily. It was nestled somewhere in his amygdala. It could cause him some problems with his temper, if it were left there too long. But no matter.

"But it _is_ relevant. ShinRa told Peter that his wife was dead, and told _her_ that her husband was dead. All lies, fabricated by the organisation you work for." He let the accusation hang.

Cloud weighed up his options. Vincent was bound and unarmed. The man, Peter, could be manipulated.

"I don't believe that that evidence is substantial enough to back up your claim," he said after a while. "And nor does it chance your situation, mr Valentine."

Vincent shrugged against his bindings. "Agent Lenny Jones' girlfriend was alleged to be held captive to ensure my cooperation. However… he didn't act that way you predicted. Instead he went to followed Constable John and Tifa. He didn't find Tifa… but he found John. And the assassin."

Cloud's blood chilled in his veins. He knew his cover would be blown sooner or later, but he hadn't anticipated it would have been _this_ soon. As if in a dream, the man named Peter reached into his pocket and withdrew an envelope, unopened. Cloud watched the man open it, and stare in shock and disgust at a photograph of the dead constable.

It was proof.

Cloud began to inch backwards to his desk's upper drawer, where his gun was held, but Peter's angry glare halted his progress. He slumped his shoulders in defeat.

He was no use in this body anymore. All he had to do was reach up and disable the chip and the real Cloud would be back. But then, of course, he'd be shot to ribbons, and the secret of the ShinRa mind control would stay a secret.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

_Vincent: trigger finger_

I found myself wondering what Flit had found when he had called the Corel base; my mind was reeling as I stared at the messages on the beeper, taken from Cloud's desk drawer.

Subject: John McHollough – TERMINATED

Subject: Tifa Lockheart – TERMINATED

**Cloud was lying on the concrete floor, staring up at the ceiling with wild eyes, his chest seeming to struggle in it's task of rising and falling. He'd certainly displayed some irregular behaviour; touching his temple then going into fits of muscle spasms. We hadn't fired a shot, deciding waiting it out. Then Cloud had fainted.**

**I thought it was a good thing that the base had not been alerted; no one would come running towards the sound of a shot being fired if we didn't shoot at all.**

**It felt, to me, as if I was in a bad dream; watching his chest rise and fall rigidly, his eyes wide with fear and confusion. A small bruise was beginning to show on the skin of his forehead, just above his temple. His lips parted.**

"**Where… is Tifa?" he asked, his voice rough and his speech laboured. I walked to his side and knelt. Gazing down at him, I saw something I hadn't seen in a long time. I saw someone gazing back.**

"**She's…" I lowered my head. I didn't even know myself. After what I had seen I wasn't so sure what to believe anymore. "I think she might be safe…" I said, although I didn't sound altogether too convincing.**

"**I'm sorry that I let this happen…" Cloud whispered, raising a hand wearily and patting me on the arm. I didn't feel at all reassured by the gesture.**

"**Tifa…" I let her name pass my lips on an exhaled breath. Just like I'd let her slip through my fingers. I was to blame. I would pay the price.**

**I raised my head suddenly as there was a loud crackling on the intercom system. I cringed as Barret's voice boomed over the speakers; "**_**ANY SHINRA SCUM WANNA FIGH'? CUS WE'RE WAIT'N FER YER**_**!" **

**I smirked. Sure enough, following the pregnant pause immediately after the announcement, there were several shouts and loud bangs of people moving around in panic. **

**The next few hours passed in a flash. Peter and I were holding off the main office, preventing the undercover ShinRa from getting to Cloud, clearly now an asset that ShinRa wanted to reclaim.**

**My trigger fingers were almost bleeding, my eyes were suffering from the continual flashes of fire, my ears were ringing with reverberating shots, and my head ached. I just wanted it all to end. I wanted to fall into a sleep that I would never awaken from, one in which I wouldn't dream. **

**The conviction was so strong, I found myself gazing longingly at the gun clutched in my weary hand. Aching to fire just one last shot into my head then let it wind its way through my synapses into oblivion. **

**Then…**

**Oh god, death is so sweet if it lets me hear this…**

"**Vincent…"**

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . **

**Tifa: belief**

**I waited out the gunfire. Barret's Corel Faction had been met with more ShinRa resistance than had been first anticipated. In the chaos, where friend was sometimes foe, the Junon employees were of little assistance, rendered helpless for fear of killing innocent bystanders. Many of the people who came to fight against us were their friends, or had once been, before they had been seduced into ShinRa's circle, by power or by their own conviction.**

**It scared them. And it scared me. I couldn't stop my mind from reeling; was **_**that**_** the bullet that would claim Vincent's life, did he fire **_**that**_** shot, **_**was**_** he even here? I felt sick. I slid down the wall in the small office at the entrance with the security guard watching over me.**

**Barret had forbidden me from fighting. I wasn't trained in handling a gun, and he wouldn't risk my life after all that had been done to save it in the first place. I could see where he was coming from, but still, I wanted a chance to fight too. My time would come, I thought. I had been taught that at a very young age.**

**As soon as it had come, the gunfire stopped. The last round seemed to echo, and I found myself holding my breath, almost expecting the firing to continue again. But it never came. I exhaled carefully, as though if I did, I would shatter the peace that had precariously settled over the Junon base. **

**I got to my feet slowly, my palm on the wall for support. The guard was too busy watching the remaining intact security screenings from the cameras to notice me slip towards the door. They all showed apparently still images of corridors and rooms. There was nothing in sight.**

**Then I noticed him. His form seemed to shine brighter than any of the others that could be seen lying down, littering doorways and corridors, halted in their quests to wreak or prevent havoc. **

**Vincent.**

**Forgetting that I didn't know my way around, that I had no idea which room it was that I had seen him in, and that I was unarmed, I ran. Nothing would stop me reaching him.**

**It had been not yet a day, but it seemed like a lifetime since I had seen him. So much had transpired; people had died to ensure that I got here, Vincent. I didn't want their efforts to be in vain.**

**I would reach you.**

**In one of the complex's endless corridors, I came to a stop at a familiar face. Annie's dog was panting at my feet, Annie herself crying in the arms of a man I didn't recognise. His eyes were streaming with tears of joy, although no words were spoken between them. **

**Somehow I knew this was her husband.**

**I felt emptiness pang at my heart, and although I regretted intruding, I had to know.**

"**Annie…" I said, my voice failing me. She heard and turned to face me silently, pointing towards a door that stood open on her left. My breath caught in my throat and my eyes stung with hot tears. Too soon I was stumbling through an unknown doorway into an equally unfamiliar room. But not full of unfamiliar faces.**

"**Vincent…" I called out testily. I couldn't see him move, although I knew he was alive. Unhurt.**

"**I'm sorry Tifa," he answered, although his eyes didn't open.**

"**Vincent?" I coughed. My tears were choking me. Before I could reach the door, someone else's voice rendered me immobile.**

"**Tifa, is that you?" Cloud's voice, full of its old warmth and feeling called to me from the right. I turned and saw him, his face bruised, his uniform, torn, but his eyes bright and lively. The eyes I had fallen into, long ago.**

"**Cloud…" I fell into his embrace, remembering everything that we'd been through, only a year ago, that had brought us back together after so long, and all that had forced us apart yet again.**

"**I'm sorry Tifa…" he started to explain. But I didn't want to hear it. **

**So many things I had been told had made me sad, angry, lost, and confused. I didn't want to feel that way again. I just wanted simplicity. No more answers. No more questions. Nothing else. I just wanted to be as I was. **

"**Say nothing more, Cloud." I shook my head. He smiled faintly.**

"**Yeah…" he rubbed the back of his neck. "But we can't run away from things for too long, Tifa. We'll have to face them sooner or later. Won't we?" he frowned.**

**I knew he was right. **

**The fight was far from over. But to me, I felt that we had won. I'd gotten over every obstacle that I had faced so far. I had my friends; Annie, Barret, Cloud… and, oh not forgetting you, Vincent… how could I forget you… **

**Vincent?**

"**Where's Vincent?" I asked. **

"**He walked out a few moments ago." The man who was stood outside with Annie told me. "If you run, you can catch him."**

**Trust you Vincent, always jumping to conclusions. You know I'm not very patient with you at the best of times. I can't keep chasing you, shouting at you, trying to make you see. Trying to make you see that it's you that I want. **

"Vincent is impulsive at the best of times," he told me wisely. "Though you probably already know."

"Are you the Shrink he always talked about?" I stared at him. He smiled.

"Yes, I am."

"Did you see his diary?" I asked, curious all the while. I let my hand rest on my pocket.

"I don't think I needed to see It." he shook his head, sharing a glance with Annie. "You seem to have gotten him to where he wanted to be. Although," he paused thoughtfully. "There seems to have been somewhat of a reverse progress. The name's Peter." He outstretched his hand. I shook it, feeling the roughness of calluses and scars long since healed, but still remaining in trace. "Thanks for bringin' me back to my wife." His voice cracked with pride, and I found myself grinning.

I watched them as they stood in each other's arms. Although time had aged them, put space between them, they were still as much in love as they had ever been, perhaps more. I wanted to love someone like she loved him one day.

If only it could be with him. It was painful to recall his name. As far as my heart was concerned, I hadn't been reunited at all. He'd walked away from me. But this time was a lot different than the last. This time there had been certain feelings, words, touch. Those things stood before us, too blatant to ignore. I couldn't let everything I had been through to get here go to waste.

Stubborn aren't you, Vincent? But I think that you might know by now that I am too. I can be more difficult than you bargain for at times.

Now is going to be one of those times. I'm not going to let you walk out of my life as quickly as you walked in. I bear your footprints where you have left marks, but they are ones that you cannot see. They are imprinted on my heart, Vincent. And I can only hope that I have left something with you. To take with you, wherever you go.


	12. Chapter 12 Revised

This chapter moves between Vincent and Tifa a lot, and it's the last chapter! For those of you who've read it before, I haven't changed anything majorly, and for those who haven't, I hope you enjoy it!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Chapter 12

Vincent: bitterness

It was pretty stupid of me, to think I was someone special, that perhaps what we had together was special. She'd always loved Cloud, and I'd always known she had. So why this time, did it hurt so much? After all, its not the first time I've been somebody's second choice. Lucrecia loved Hojo. Whether or not she loved me, more or less, is inconsequential now. I was under the illusion that she actually _preferred_ him. Maybe she did, maybe she didn't.

I just wished that I'd been more cautious, if that were indeed possible. Now, I am sensing that history is going to repeat itself. Maybe I should have just died a long time ago, cold and starving in that godforsaken coffin; at least then I wouldn't have to face the same pain, and I wouldn't have to go on living with the hope that she _might_ change her mind. I knew _my_ mind still worked the same way. Sure, I'm a lot more cautious now; Tifa would verify that, but still…

It would seem I've managed to work myself into the same dead end. And unfortunately, this whole thing will have the same results.

Tifa with him, and me, stood in the sidelines repeating, _well if she's happy then I don't mind._

The heart is a fickle friend, never giving you a straight answer, or a straight path to take, though it seemed like the road I was on was awfully familiar. The same dusty, lonely dust track leading into nowhere. Maybe I am better off alone…That way, no one can hurt me anymore.

My hurried footsteps had carried me to the cliff top just past the JPD HQ. The sun was on the verge of setting, the orange plate ready to dip into the ocean of liquid gold. The sunset was a watery one; low pressure from inland and high from the coast promising a thunderstorm shortly. The heavy grey clouds were threatening to swallow what slim segment of the sunset remained.

I welcomed the cool breeze as the temperature dropped in preparation. I could taste the charge in the air as the storm's energy brewed above me. I knew the wind would carry the storm itself further inland, but the coast would suffer a torrential rainstorm.

"Vince?" I turned to see Lenny and Flit watching me, triumph alight in their faces. They had fought alongside Barret's Corel faction, succeeding in overthrowing the ShinRa inside the base. All they had on their minds was victory.

"Y-yeah?" I ran a hand over my forehead.

"Didn't you hear?" Flit began excitedly. "Tifa was at Corel with Barret! He brought her with him. She's alive, Vince, you can see her!" I sighed and turned away again.

"I know."

It made me feel sick to think of the irony- they had only just figured my feelings for her… Only when it could no longer be.

"Then…why aren't you down there with her?" Flit's tone was incredulous, though I knew he sensed something was amiss.

"Because she doesn't need me. She has Cloud."

"You frickin' crazy?" Lenny yelled, walking around me, his arms spread in a gesture of disbelief. His eyes were wide, searching me for answers. Answers I didn't have. "She was askin' allsorts about you back at the station! She wus worried outta her head over you; she didn't give a shit about _him_!"

"Well that's changed… She's got him now; like she always wanted." I closed my eyes as the first drops of rain began to fall onto my skin. In contrast to the time when the heavens had poured over Tifa and I, when the rain had been gentle and forgiving, this rain was hard and cruel.

Like the world I saw around me.

I opened my eyes. Lenny was staring at something over my shoulder, his mouth open. At first I thought it must be Flit, as I heard his footsteps walking away.

"Um…" Flit's voice was close. "Dude? Turn around."

I did so. Tifa was walking away from me, her figure blurred in the heavier falling rain.

She'd come to me.

"Tifa!" I shouted, my voice gripped by panic. The blood in my veins ran cold, as I felt it drain away from my face.

She stopped and turned around to give me a look; one that said '_I thought I knew you better'_. I'd ruined things; in her terminology, I guess I'd 'let the door slam shut'. But I knew that there was a handle.

Her dark hair was hanging about her face, amber eyes were deep with sorrow and defeat. Suddenly, I didn't know what to say. He presence meant everything then, but I had greatly underestimated her feelings for me, it seemed. Such a fool. A cold hearted fool.

"Please Tifa… I have to talk to you."

She looked from Lenny, to Flit, then to me. "I've heard enough," she cried, and I could tell there were tears falling down her face, mingled with the rain. Her face toward the dying sun, barely still present at the horizon, she was lit in a golden amber radiance. She looked beautiful; enchantingly so.

"Please!" I cried out as she turned to walk away.

"Not here, Vincent!" She shook her head again, turning and heading back the was she had came. All I had to do was follow her, using what time I had to figure out what the hell I was going to say.

I barely noticed as several other officers emerged from the JPD HQ as she passed, her flooded hair flying behind her, arms drawn tight to trap the pain. I scarcely realised that Cloud, Annie, Peter, Barret and other A.S.P.S agents had come out onto their side of the bay. Tifa was stuck between two parties.

She stopped in the middle, and then walked to the end of a jetty at the harbour. Fishing boats bobbed wildly in the heightening waves, and buoys clanked in the distance. She came to a halt at the end of the wide jetty, whirling around to face me abruptly, water falling from the tips of her hair and dripping from her eyelashes.

"What do you want?" she called over the storm, her fingers gripping the sleeves of her sodden cardigan, pulling them over her knuckles. I did not falter. The cold of the rain had soaked through the fabric of my clothes, and it had brought me crashing into a new reality: Tifa's.

"I… want to explain something…" I answered, daring not come more than four steps closer to her.

"Why does there always have to be an explanation! There _is_ nothing to explain!" she screamed, her voice cracking with sobs. I took a tentative step forwards. She took one back. "Don't! Just don't!" she shook her head wildly.

"Tifa, please…" I begged, outstretching a hand. "Be careful at the edge."

I couldn't formulate my words in my mouth. I'd never come this far before. I'd never had to confront my own feelings like this, never had to say things out loud. Tifa had come back, but I'd thrown away my chance. I couldn't let her just walk away from me without her knowing how I truly felt. After that, if she still wanted to, she could walk away, and I'd be happy; because at least just once in my life, I would have been honest to the both of us.

"You're so blind!" she told me, her arms gesturing wildly. She gripped her hair in her hands and wept, tumbling this way and that. I'd broken her down. Now all I had to do was pick her up and…

"Tifa please…" I strode forwards and pulled her into my arms. She did her best to resist me, hitting my chest with her fists, though I could tell she was not putting any heart into this fight. This was one fight she couldn't win by force alone.

"Why…" she whispered, her forehead on my shoulder, arms gripped my sodden shirt tightly. "Why can't you see that I don't want him…"

I felt my strength of resolve return. I could conquer this. I felt my heart soar. She didn't want him? After all this, after all she'd been through, she still wanted me. Oh Tifa, if only you knew.

"Why can't _you_ see?" I pulled back and shook her shoulders lightly. She stared reluctantly into my eyes. "Everything I have done has been for you… I have tried so hard to reach you, Tifa… I hadn't _expected_ to fall in love with you, but it happened none the less. And I don't regret anything I have done." I swallowed. Her lip quivered slightly as she waited. I leant in, resting my forehead on hers.

"Vincent…" she brought one shivering hand up to touch my face gently, her amber eyes alive with emotion. The rain poured on, trembling down her cheeks, across her lips… Tifa.

I leant forwards to kiss her, drawing her body close to mine, so I could feel our heartbeats merge into one. As I closed the distance between our lips, I had one last thing to say. "Tifa, I love you."

Then our lips met. Everything else vanished; the pounding rain, the tolling bells in the buoys, the distant rumble of thunder, even the sounds of people cheering from far away. All that was in my world was her.

Her mouth trembled against mine, and when she touched me, I felt thrills shoot down my spine. I wanted to be swallowed up by the feeling that was consuming me; making my chest burn with warm fire, and my senses escalate beyond any conceivable level. I'd won this time.

Tifa: honesty

When I was finally able to pull myself away enough to speak, the words never came. Vincent was honest whenever he did have something important or meaningful to say. His words had hit me hard. Nobody had ever been that honest to me before. Not Cloud, No one.

I think its one of the main reasons I fell for Vincent. Never a wasted word, moment, kiss…

Oh god Vincent, I love you too. I'd found you again, and I wasn't going to let go now. You're the only one I want.

I looked into his eyes, as they seemed to burn with compassion, wondering what was going through his mind. I gripped the soaked fabric of his shirt in my fingers and felt heat rise to my face as I felt the warmth of his skin beneath it; so close, so real.

His arms tightened, and I could do nothing to suppress the shivers that spread from his wandering fingertips. My breath caught in my throat and I swallowed awkwardly. I allowed my head to rest on his shoulder, my forehead nestled into his neck. His hand journeyed up my waist to my hair, stroking it absently. His lips came close to my ear.

"Tifa I…" he swallowed. "I'm sorry to say this… but…" when he failed to continue I raised my head to look at him.

Beneath that gaze I saw the same look I had seen in his eyes on the plains, where it had also rained, where everything had been thrown into the open, like it had done again. I saw want; not lust, just a painful yearning. Lifting my hand to touch his cheek, I thought over what I would say. What could I lose now? The words were practically throbbing inside my head, so much, that I was surprised he couldn't hear them.

"It's ok Vincent… I feel it too…" I murmured into his ear. He seemed to exhale with both relief and revelation.

"I… I want you Tifa." although I had been expecting his words to a degree, it still sent my blood rushing to the surface of my skin, colouring my cheeks. "Please… never leave me again…"

"I promise I won't leave you, I swear…"

We were both breathless, and I could feel the cold getting to me, rainwater soaking through my clothes and chilling my skin. Being so close to Vincent, especially being as emotional as I was, was taking its toll on me. My heart was racing, and I was trembling. I could feel body heat through the sodden fabric of his shirt, and his warm breathing on my cheek, as we stood close.

Hard wire muscles relaxed into the embrace, and I can't help but want to know what it feels like to feel his skin trembling in anticipation under my wandering fingertips, the way he would feel against my mouth, breathless and wanting, mumbled words under heavy sheets, flushed faces…

Oh god Vincent, it's you, it has to be you.

My minds travelling faster than I can comprehend right now, and I think you knew, Vincent. Watching me carefully, as though you could see what I could see in my eyes. You, at my door, eyes fearful yet controlled, wet, desperate; Heated arguments and then soft meaningful smiles; A stolen kiss in the rain, a bullet wound, then the words you told me. I won't forget them Vincent, I promise. I won't forget all of these moments…

…Because, Vincent, you told me that memory is the only thing that can endure so long.

It was an hour or so from the pier, and we'd run to your house in the rain, hand in hand. Stumbling through the door like the devil himself was after us, yet you didn't allow me to catch my breath before taking me into your arms and up the stairs.

Not enough time to turn on any lights, yet I could see you perfectly through the darkness, with a little aid from the amber street lights filtering through the curtains. I could still hear the waves pounding on the shore, and the clanging of the buoys bobbing on the current.

I recalled the shouts of people, calling us back, but we'd ignored them. I wondered if they had the sensibility not to follow. Because we wouldn't have answered the door, even if we'd heard it.

Whereas before I could feel cold, wet fabric, I felt warm, dampened skin beneath me. Too many buttons for my faltering grip as I struggle to undo his shirt, and it's hard to believe I'm not dreaming, that it might really be Vincent's shaking hand trying to untuck my shirt.

I've wanted him so long, it feels like a dream, but it's nothing but real when I cry out his name, feel his mouth on mine beneath tangled sheets, skin drenched in sweat. Like my dreams, Vincent smiled down at me, taking me into his arms and falling down against the pillows. Like my dreams, he murmurs 'I love you' against my hair, and his lips graze my skin.

But unlike my dreams, something goes wrong.

Vincent: Letting Go  


Lying with you in the dark, as though neither of us had a care in the world, I could feel your heart beating inside your chest. And I couldn't help but thinking that we did have cares; so many troubles laden on us, that I was surprised both of us could stand and still walk tall every day.

I lose track of time.

Yet I can't help but worry. I have you now, Tifa. Cloud is back, and the ShinRa threat momentarily exposed. Peter said that they were using a kind of microchip to control people who had been exposed to mako in the past, and I can't help but wonder if I'll be next.

I hold you a little tighter. I don't want to hurt you. Now that I have you, I don't want to do anything that could jeopardise your safety. Being here, near a so recent ShinRa threat, one I am still not sure is over, is doing that. And I know that if I get hurt, if I die, I'll only be making you suffer again.

Selfish things, really. But I've finally got what I'd been subconsciously looking for, for so long.

I remember when I heard that you were in trouble in Kalm. My mind immediately settled on the strong female I knew and admired from AVALANCHE. Tall, graceful, a woman with a good heart, and yet you were venerable. Because you were always too trusting.

And it was these traits that made me draw the comparison between you, and the last woman I would have died for. A woman I did die for, in a sense. Back then, I was too closed to admit the attraction, told myself that I was just making useless connections between redundant memories.

But things change.

Tifa stirs in my arms. It's just before daybreak, and the storm died long ago. I can hear the occasional call of a seagull, the whisper of waves on the sand, the muted shout of fishermen at the docks.

I wished every day could be like this. Oh hell, I wish it could.

I call your name softly, and you stir again. I sense a moment of panic in you as you struggle to recall where you are, and then you see me and relax. You touch my face softly and smile.

"What time is it?" she asks, gazing up at my ceiling.

"4am, Tifa…" the red light of my LED clock glares out of the twilight. I wish, oh I wish it could be 4am forever.

"I wonder if they've missed us," she laughs slightly, still sleepy.

"I'm sure we can deal with them." I smile in return, my fingers trailing along the skin of her back, revelling in her warmth. She shudders a little.

"The problems still haven't gone away have they?" I feel her sigh. I sense the little bubble around us melt away, the one that was able to keep everything out, if only for a little while.

Cloud: admittance

He saw her follow him. He saw her running, saw them running, their hands conjoined tightly, away from the rain, the people, and out of sight and memory. Vincent and Tifa? He didn't understand. He recalled being caught in a cross fire between A.S.P.S and ShinRa several months ago… after that, nothing. A huge, empty void, an irreplaceable blank of white noise that only vanished a few minutes before.

Why was Tifa here? He hadn't asked her to join; He'd wanted to protect the last thing he felt he had in the world. He knew she'd find out eventually, inevitably, and that she would be furious with him. It was a risk he was willing to take, though.

Yet Vincent was the one who surprised him the most. While locked in his office, under the careful watch of a certain Peter Fordston, he found a small book bound by brown leather in his desk drawer, and reading it, he found out many things he never knew about Vincent. He didn't know how the diary came to be there; he could only assume it had been placed there when he had not been himself, as Peter had put it. Surprisingly, he felt pained to see Tifa falling for someone else.

He knew he couldn't expect her to wait for him all of her life. She was young, and beautiful, but most of all, she was strong. Stronger even than he'd been in the end. She'd always been the one to hold him together with support and softly spoken words. She knew him best, after all.

Though it seemed she was getting to know Vincent too, pretty well, he could only assume from the diary.

'…_Tifa once used to feel for him, more than she thinks I know. A man like that does not deserve a woman like her. Not that I'm saying that I deserve her any more. I cannot begin to wonder why she feels for me so; I can only guess.'_

Cloud hadn't let go of the diary all evening since he'd discovered it. In its only entry it hinted the existence of another diary, one that had more sinister contents. Cloud itched to read it.

He realised suddenly that he didn't trust Vincent as much as he had thought. A part of his mind wandered back to scenes of Vincent's old daemons, creatures that shared his body, bursting forth in the throng of battle, massacring whoever stood in his way. He questioned Vincent's ability to keep them in check, though he claimed that he was no longer their victim.

Somehow he doubted that.

Then of course there was that old protective streak in him. He used to play hero to everyone; it gave him somewhat of an escape, a diversion to all of his problems, in helping people to run away from theirs.

He slumped back in his bed, staring up at the dark ceiling. He was being held in the infirmary for observation after the microchip. The doctor wanted to keep an eye on him for lingering psychological effects.

The only thing lingering in Cloud's mind was a growing hate for Vincent. Jealousy was not a word he would chose to describe it, but yet he was resentful somehow, that Tifa had decided to fall for someone so… unorthodox.

Tifa…

The ceiling shifted shapes, changing colours, mutating into other forms and spectral figures. He was gazing at a ceiling made of metal now, and he could hear voices: Voices that were telling him to do things.

'_Finish what Tom Eastwick couldn't.'_

Then everything went black.

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . **

Tifa: costumes

"How are you feeling?" He asked me softly, his hands touching my shoulders gently, lips pressed to my temple. I lean back into him, sighing.

"Fine, I guess." I answer. He knows as well I do that I am not being totally truthful. I felt as though everything was inexplicably out of my hands; Because as much as I love Vincent, the second I step outside of his door, there'll be the world with all of their questions, looks, and comments.

Then the ShinRa problem: Manipulation using _computers_? I couldn't understand it all. Friends turning into enemies, and enemies masquerading as friends…

I put my head in my hands, unable to prevent my shoulders trembling with barely-contained sobs, yet as faithful as Vincent is, he was there to hold me together. His arms came around my shuddering ribcage, as thought I'd fall apart from the tears. He mumbled words into my hair, rocking my form gently, telling me it'd all be fine.

It was then I knew how desperate things were; Vincent wasn't an optimist: he was a realist. Nothing is ever all right in the end is it? Not without a sacrifice.

And my sacrifice was the greatest of all.

I prised his arms away and stood up, taking a few uncertain breaths. I would have to go and face things. Hiding away and feeling sorry for myself solved nothing, I knew from experience. I stood in front of the mirror. My hand was drawn to the healing scar of the bullet wound. A tribute I would wear for the rest of my life, showing how far I'd come. Above that was the long, crescent-shaped scar, left by Sephiroth's masamune. Two marks or two separate scrapes with death… the grim reaper's tally chart.

I see Vincent watching me sadly in the reflection. He sighs and stands, pulling on his clothes as though they were a costume; hiding his scars and who he really was beneath layers of fabric. I feel the same way as I dress into clothes that were left to dry, but still hold the scent of fallen rain, and traces of the water.

He comes to stand behind me, arms tight around my waist and I can just for a moment sink into his embrace.

Oh Vincent…

I'm sorry.

After the last piece of clothing covers me, I feel the impending journey weighing down on me. I feel angry with myself; _you have a man who loves you, you shouldn't be sad_. But yet I can't help it.

For fear of shattering whatever security there is felt between us, we say nothing as we leave the house. He takes my hand and squeezes it reassuringly. I want to turn back and re-enter the house, but I know that the only reason everyone allowed us this night was because it would the last for a long time: the first and the last.

The day has only just broken, and it's cold outside. There is a biting wind coming up off of the sea and I draw my free arm around myself. Vincent's hand tightens his grip on mine. He's telling me to be strong.

If not for me, then I'll do it for you Vincent.

Tifa: the last stand

We walked together towards the bay, admiring the morning together as though nothing would be waiting for us when we, reached out destination. All the while I felt that Vincent wanted to talk to me, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. Eventually, he pulled me to stop, not looking at me, his eyes trained on the dawn. I twitched my hand in his, to let him know I was listening.

"Tifa… will you…" he shook his head. "When this is all over will you… go back to Kalm?" he looked crest fallen, as though that wasn't what he wanted to say to me. I shrugged.

"There is nothing for me there. But I guess I'd feel safer with a new start." I sigh, and tug on his hand, carrying on walking. "But I'll think about it when the time comes."

I smiled encouragingly. He mumbled an ok, seeming to follow me with reluctance.

We arrived at the A.S.P.S base entrance and everything seemed normal; the guards let us in, people were bustling around trying to sort out the rubble and the bodies, the chaos that had ensued after last night's battle.

17 Corel agents dead, 31 Junon Agents, 27 of whom were ShinRa controlled.

We'd passed Barret on our way in, and he'd winked at me and gave Vincent his version of a pat on the back, which nearly sent him head first into a nearby wall. Annie was helping with the labouring, and Peter was helping the still-dazed victims of the attack.

I'd wanted to get right to helping, but we were seated in the conference room until someone from the Corel base could get here to debrief us.

"Are you worried?" Vincent asks me, leaning forwards in his seat.

"About ShinRa? I guess so… but Cloud's ok, right?" I was slightly concerned for him, as I had walked out soon after being reunited with him.

"We've sorted out this base. And everyone's getting his or her chips removed right now. Cloud's is different from the others so his will take a little longer…" Vincent smiled at me reassuringly.

When Cloud walked in soon after, I shared a confused glance with Vincent. He looked rigid from lack of sleep. Locking the door behind him, he smiled awkwardly before running a hand idly through his hair.

_Wasn't he meant to be in the medical wing? _

My eyes travelled from the locked door to Cloud, then to Vincent and back. None offered me a solution, an escape, or even justification. Why now?

"I'm sorry to say this…" he began, walking over to his seat and reaching for something beneath the desk. "But… One of you isn't leaving here alive. You can't stand in the way of ShinRa and the Turks and get away with it." He was reaching for a gun.

Vincent's hand shot out to hold mine, and the other fumbled beneath the folds of his coat. In a flurry of clothing and metal, a gun was pointing at me, and another at Cloud.

"Shoot me, Vincent. You know you can't win this." Cloud was smirking now. "Shoot and she gets shot, don't shoot, and she gets shot. It's too late to shout for help now." I felt nausea rise inside of me. This couldn't be happening to me. Not now. "I'm betting that right about now, you're wishing you hadn't of snuck off last night, when you should have been keeping watch on me, instead."

"You don't have to do this, Cloud…" Vincent's voice was slow, and controlled, though Tifa detected the tremor in his hand, gripping hers tightly. Surely I'd wake up in Vincent's bedroom, gasping for breath from a nightmare, then fall back into his arms and…

Cloud cocked his gun. the sound seemed a thousand times louder in that empty conference room, with my life at the end of the barrel. I suddenly thought of Aeris; he'd done something similar with her, before she died. He'd raised his sword above his head and… but he'd come out of the trance.

Somehow, I knew I wouldn't be as lucky.

"Tifa…" Vincent choked. "I… I can't…" his eyes travelled quickly from me to Cloud, full of fear. He was telling me that he couldn't do anything to save me. We were stuck in this position now. No way out.

"I know." I swallowed, resigned. I realised I was going to die. No matter what Vincent did.

"Please, Cloud." Vincent said desperately. "Let her go."

"No." he said. "Time's up."

I screwed my eyes shut. I heard five shots fired, and I felt two.

Cloud hit the floor at the same moment as I did. He was dead as he fell, but I was not. I could see the overhead lights dimming above me, and then Vincent. I was being lifted into his arms, and every movement sent a jolt of pain through my body.

"Tifa stay with me…" his voice was saying breathlessly. I felt the air rushing about me as he was clearly hurrying me to the medical wing.

I was being placed on a bed.

"Please, oh god don't leave me…"

"Mr Valentine you're going to have to step back."

"NO! Tifa don't die please!"

_V…Vincent?_

"We'll need some stitches for these wounds. Ripped right through on one, the other still has some slug left inside."

"Lung puncture and contact with the heart's outer muscle, severe internal bleeding and ruptures."

"Get off me! Let me see her- she's _dying_!"

_Vincent… stay calm… I'm going to be fine._

"Mr Valentine let us do our job!"

"Oh god, Tifa please…"

I felt a warm presence nearby, and I opened my eyes. I could see Vincent being wrestled off by two large security guards, I could see the doctors, but more strangely than that, I could see myself. Bleeding, colouring the doctor's hands red.

Yet I felt so calm inside.

The machine that was ticking my life away was still going, yet I could tell that I had so little time….

And I was back. The pain was back. No more doctors this time, though. Just Vincent. And a clock that read 3:57am. I was breathing with aid of a ventilator and it hurt with each lungful of air.

"Tif…" he was saying softly, his voice thick with tears. He wasn't looking at me. He was watching my hand as he held it in his. " If you can hear me… then… please let me know. We… don't have much time."

My beeper was still going steady. I gave his hand the slightest of squeezes. It felt as though I'd had to carry the weight of the world in one action.

His eyes lifted to meet mine, and I saw so much sadness there, that I wanted to hold him in my arms and never let him go, but I knew I didn't have the strength. He swallowed and looked as though he was going to say something, but gave up instead. He gave me a smile that deserved a medal of bravery.

"Annie, Barret and Cid have been to visit." He said eventually, as brightly as he could manage. Something told me that wasn't what he had meant to say. I blinked slowly to let him know I heard him. He smiled faintly.

"The doctors said you have little time left," he told me honestly. I felt my eyes fill up with tears. "One bullet punctured your lung, and the other… it damaged your heart. They said," he took a deep breath. "You had less than a day to live."

I sighed, and my tears fell softly down my cheeks. I cried for Vincent, and everyone I would be leaving behind. I'd miss them. Why did Vincent deserve to lose someone else? I couldn't help but wonder what would have become of Vincent and I, had none of this happened. Would me marry? Would we have children of our own?

Then I remembered, Vincent.

Before we came here, you'd wanted to ask me something. You couldn't say it. You'd asked me a strange question, one that couldn't warrant your nervousness. _"Tifa… will you…when this is all over will you… go back to Kalm?"_ Perhaps what it should have been was, _"will you… should me get married one day?"_

At 3:59am I felt my breathing constrict, and my chest burn excruciatingly. The beeper was starting to let of a high-pitched tone, telling the doctors I was going into cardiac arrest.

With tears falling down his face, Vincent leaned over me and turned the machine off. It went on in silence. He took away my ventilator and kissed my burning lips softly, lifting me gently into his arms, and I held on as best I could. I could taste his tears.

"I love you Tifa." He murmured as best he could. I let out a small cry.

I knew no more when the clock's digits changed to 4am.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Fully edited! Wow, this stuff is much more angsty that my other work.


End file.
